


Larger Than Life

by belljar



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-06 17:31:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 105,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5425721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belljar/pseuds/belljar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronan lives with his mom, dad, and brothers at a somewhat-disused farm. They still have cows, and apple trees, but they’re not farmers, don’t make a living from it. His dad is away a lot and his mom stays at home. This means there’s always lemonade and cinnamon rolls ready when Ronan gets home from school. </p>
<p>Every day he sees a young boy bike past in the morning and again in the afternoon. He’s only seen glances of him, the glimpse of a worn backpack, shorts in the winter, and an old, rusty bike. He’s pretty and Ronan is entranced in a way he doesn’t really understand. </p>
<p>(OR: An AU with no supernatural elements where Adam and Ronan meet each other at age eight and grow up as best friends.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eight years old

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seakid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seakid/gifts).



> shoutout and thanks to [estrella](http://fangirling-stuff.tumblr.com/) for coming up with the idea for this fic and letting me write it & [kayla](http://j-prouvaire.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading!
> 
> trigger warnings for (referenced/implied) child and domestic abuse, as in canon. other tws will be added in the beginning notes of each chapter.
> 
> i don't own the characters, we all know that. maggie stiefvater does.

Ronan Lynch lives with his mum, dad, and his brothers at a somewhat-disused farm. Somewhat disused, because they still have cows and apple trees, but they’re not farmers, don’t make a living from it. His dad is away a lot and his mum stays at home. This doesn’t mean much to him, only that there’s always lemonade and cinnamon rolls ready when Ronan gets home from school.

Every day he sees a young boy bike past in the morning, and again in the afternoon. He’s only seen glances of him, the glimpse of a worn backpack, shorts in the winter, and an old, rusty bike. He’s pretty, and Ronan finds himself entranced by him in a way he doesn’t quite understand.

Ronan always played outside a lot – loved the feeling of the sun hitting his skin, loved climbing trees as high as possible, with Matthew screaming below him to be careful and Ronan’s harsh laugh in response. He never fell down, blessed in that way.

He tells himself that ‘he _always_ spent time outside and that the fact he’s suddenly always in the yard every afternoon at two o’clock has nothing to do with the anticipation of seeing the blond boy’. He just wants to be his friend. He wonders if the boy likes cows.

 

* * *

  
One day, Ronan sees him sitting on the ground next to his bike. His backpack is flung beside him and he’s toying with the chain. The boy looks hopeless, and Ronan walks over to him.

‘Hi,’ he says, obviously startling the kid. ‘Is everything OK?’

‘Something’s wrong with my chain,’ he says, grasping desperately at it. ‘I’m trying to fix it, but—’

Ronan looks at his small hands, eight years old, trying to repair the bike. Ronan knows it’s hopeless.

The other boy is panicking; his right hand keeps flying up to run through his hair, back to the chain, up to his face, pressing the palm against his eyes. His breathing sounds forced, catching in his throat.

‘I can’t go home, I—’ the boy says, and he sounds like he’s about to cry. ‘He’ll kill me. He’ll kill me, he’ll kill me, he’ll kill me, I can’t go home, I can’t—’

He starts crying, and desperately wipes away tears, all hurried hand movements, trying to be brave and strong and not show how terrified he is but _failing_. That’s the worst part. The failing.

‘Leave it here,’ Ronan says, sitting down beside him. He doesn’t know why the boy is crying – it’s just a bike, and who’s this ‘ _he’_? – But Ronan wants to make it better, wants to help. He wants to hug him. ‘Take mine, my big brother can fix yours and you can come back for it tomorrow.’

The other boy looks up at him with huge eyes that are red and glassy.

‘Wait here,’ Ronan says, getting up again. ‘I’ll go get it, give me a minute!’

When he gets back with his bike – a black BMX, brand new but already scratched and chipped because Ronan likes to do cool tricks – the other boy is standing up with his backpack slung on his back. You wouldn’t even know he’d cried if you hadn’t seen it.

‘Here,’ Ronan says, pushing the bike in front of him and waiting to let go till the other boy has his hands on the handle bars.

‘Thank you,’ the boy says, giving Ronan a very small smile. It feels like a gift.

Ronan just nods in reply. He watches as the boy drives away, watches as he gets smaller and smaller, and finally isn’t even there anymore. He wonders again if the boy likes cows.

 

* * *

  
The next day the boy is back. Ronan is sitting on the pavement, playing with a bouncing ball, when the kid rides up on the black bike. He gets off it and sits down beside Ronan.

‘I owe you,’ he says solemnly, so damn sincerely, no messing around. ‘You saved me big time.’

Ronan just shrugs, despite how he feels butterflies in his stomach. ‘That’s what friends are for.’

He hopes they’re friends.

The other boy adjusts a strand of his hair and smiles at him, another smile than yesterday, bigger, realer. ‘I’m Adam,’ he says.

‘I’m Ronan,’ Ronan replies, grinning widely. ‘Do you like cows?’

‘I don’t know,’ Adam hesitates, scrunching up his eyebrows. ‘I’ve never been close to one.’

‘Do you want to?’ Ronan asks, squeezing the ball in his hand.

Adam smiles at him and nods. ‘That would be cool.’

Ronan smiles and jumps up, extends his hand to help up Adam as well.

‘This way,’ he says. ‘Dream just had a calf, her name is Angle Grinder.’ He looks back at Adam, smiling proudly. Adam’s face breaks into a smile and he starts laughing.

Ronan leads Adam to the field where the cows are –three girls and one bull.

‘Do they all have names?’ Adam asks, hesitantly reaching his hand out and petting Angle Grinder on the head.

‘Yep,’ Ronan says. ‘The bull’s called Coloss, my dad came up with that, and this is Dream,’ he says, clapping a cow on it’s head, ‘my little brother Matthew named her. Then this is Rotavator,’ – he points to one – ‘this is Ecstasy, Declan named her, and then finally Angle Grinder. I got to name her.’

He pets her, his hand touching Adam’s.

‘Did you name Rotavator as well?’ Adam asks in a soft voice, clapping Angle Grinder softly.

‘Nah,’ Ronan answers. ‘Mom did.’

Adam starts laughing, it rolls from his lips all free and wild and uncontrolled, and Ronan starts laughing as well. They both end up falling over; end up lying on the fields, gasping for breath, stomachs hurting. Ronan looks up at the sky; watches the clouds drift by, and can’t stop smiling because he made Adam laugh like that. Yesterday he’d been crying bitterly, traitorous tears streaming down his cheeks, and now he’s laughing, smiling wide, showing how he’s missing a front tooth.

Adam looks over at Ronan, sees him smiling, dimples in his cheek, and whispers a quiet _thank you_.

 

Adam comes home to the trailer park that afternoon and his dad isn’t home. He doesn’t know exactly where he is, but he knows the nights without him are better than the ones with him – but then when he then _does_ return back home, it’s worse. So much worse.

His mom is home. She’s tired. She’s always tired. Her skin looks thin, stretched out across her bony limbs, her greyed, thin hair pulled back in a low ponytail. Strands of hair have escaped the elastic and are hanging loose, framing her face.

She’s an empty vessel of what she once was. Adam’s never known that _what once was_ ; she’s always been like this.

‘I’ve made a friend,’ he says in a quiet voice. He’s smiling, hoping she’d smile back. She doesn’t.

‘That’s lovely, darling,’ she says, sitting down at the kitchen table. She gestures for Adam to sit down as well, and when he does she takes his small hands in hers.

‘Who are they?’ she asks, looking him in the eye. It sounds… nice enough, just a hint of something _else_. Something inquiring and something—like she’s not _really_ listening. As if there’s a window between them and she’s looking at something more interesting.

‘His name is Ronan,’ Adam says, proud of this fact. ‘And he has _cows_. I pet them. He also has a cool bike and a large house and he has a really nice laugh.’

Adam looks up at his mom, smile still there. There’s nothing that can make it go away, not right now.

‘I’m glad,’ she says, finally smiling back at him. ‘Don’t tell your dad.’

Adam shakes his head slowly. He knows this; he wasn’t going to. Ronan’s something secret – something just _his_. One thing his dad can’t have, can’t touch, can’t ruin. He’s not going to let him ruin Ronan.

 

* * *

  
The next day, Adam wants to go back, but doesn’t really know how. He bikes from school as fast as possible, then stops, and gets off his bike where his chain had made him crash two days ago. He crosses his legs and sits down on the road, patiently waiting. He hopes Ronan maybe will show up.

He sits there for a long time, drumming on his thigh, attempting to whistle (he’s been trying to learn for a couple of weeks but it’s _hard_ ), and looking at the sky. Ronan isn’t there.

He wonders if maybe he should bike home. He should probably bike home, but it’s not because he really wants to. The more time spent _away_ from home, the better.

He gets up, dusts off his pants, and wrings his hands awkwardly. _You can do this_ , he tells himself. _Ronan called you his friend_.

He walks to the door, legs shaking, and stands in front of it. He breathes deeply a couple of times and gathers the courage to knock. He pushes his chest forward, straightens his back, and knocks twice on the door.

Not long passes before the door is opened, and the sight of a nice-looking woman in a long, purple dress greets him, a green scarf wrapped around her neck. It looks homemade. Adam’s mom can’t knit.

‘Hello ma’am,’ he says, trying to sound adult. ‘Is Ronan here? I’m Adam, his new friend.’ He says this proudly, reminding her, himself, and the entire world that he’s his _friend_. He’s my _friend_. ‘Pleasure to meet you.’ He wipes off his hand at his pant thigh and sticks it out to her.

Aurora is smiling down at him – this tiny human trying to appear big and bold and grown-up, all mature. She takes his hand and shakes. ‘Hello Adam,’ she smiles. ‘I’m Aurora, Ronan’s mom. He’s in the garden with his brothers; I was just about to call for them. I’ve baked cinnamon rolls. Do you want to join us?’

Adam tries not to openly gape at her. ‘Yes, thank you,’ he says, nodding.

‘Come on then,’ she says smiling at him and walks back inside the house. He shuffles after.

The kitchen is large and filled with things – there’s a table with _eight_ chairs around it. Adam counts them twice. There really are eight. They have four at home, but one of them is missing a leg, so it doesn’t really count.

‘I’ll go get the others,’ Aurora says, moving on into the living room to call out the window. ‘BOYS!’ she yells, ‘COME HERE.’

The sound of laughter and kids voices becomes clearer and clearer and then suddenly three boys are in the kitchen and Adam spots Ronan who’s smiling at him.

‘Adam!’ He grins, rushing forward. ‘I didn’t know you were here.’

‘Hi,’ Adam says, smiling back at Ronan, all wide. ‘Your mom let me in.’

Ronan turns around again to face his brothers. ‘Matthew ‘n Declan, this is Adam,’ he says. ‘He’s my friend.’

Adam looks at them, shy all of a sudden. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do in this situation.

‘Hi Adam,’ the big one says. ‘I’m Declan.’ He walks forward and shakes Adam’s hand. It’s easy to see he’s related to Ronan.

‘Hi,’ Adam says. ‘Thank you for fixing my bike!’

‘No problem,’ he says, smiling at him.

The younger boy doesn’t say anything. He’s looking at Adam with huge eyes. His chubby face is framed by golden curls, sticking out at odd angles, revealing they’ve been running around outside. He’s sucking on his thumb. He looks like Ronan, but softer somehow. Smoother around the edges.

‘Hi,’ Adam says experimentally, waving at him. Matthew blushes and his mouth widens in a huge smile. He runs to his mom and wraps his arms around her leg.

‘Who wants cinnamon rolls?’ Aurora asks and the kitchen dissolves into a railway station: booming voices, shoulders shoved, everybody trying to get a place to sit down.

Adam ends up in the chair beside Ronan’s. He looks over at him and grins when Ronan pulls a silly face.

The cinnamon rolls are _wonderful_ – Adam doesn’t think he’s ever tasted anything so good – and Ronan looks at him with wide eyes as he licks his sugar-sticky lips.

‘These are so good Mrs,’ he says to Aurora. ‘Your mom’s amazing,’ he continues, looking at Ronan. Ronan sticks out his tongue in reply and takes another bite of his pastry.

Aurora smiles at them. ‘I like your new friend, Ronan,’ she says solemnly and Adam _beams_. So does Ronan, really. They’re both too shy to look at her, or each other, so they focus solely on their cinnamon rolls.

 

* * *

  
They quickly become inseparable. There was never really any “Adam and Ronan;” they went directly from strangers to “AdamandRonan.”

Every day after school, Adam stops on his bike at Ronan’s place and they play until Adam has to head home. Sometimes he can’t stay long – he never dwells on reasons, on how’s and why’s – and sometimes he’s free for hours, and they hang out with the cows, or in Ronan’s room, or in the kitchen with Ronan’s mom.

They play a lot of soccer in the garden. Ronan is really good, but he sometimes purposely messes up and lets Adam get the ball in. He’s also really good at not making it seem like that’s what he’s doing.

Matthew, Ronan’s little brother, always wants to be on Adam’s team. Ronan says it’s unfair to play two against one, but he says it without much meaning, because he’s happy his friend likes his brother and his brother likes his friend and he just wants to see them both happy. They always look really happy when they win.

One day, Adam gets off his bike, and he doesn’t say anything. He looks sort of empty- not easy to describe. ‘Do you wanna go to the cows?’ Ronan asks in a soft voice. Adam nods at him and Ronan grabs his hand and tugs him along.

Adam’s hands quickly find Angle Grinder’s head – they’ve become quite good friends, Ronan says she likes him – and he looks quietly into her eyes, petting her.

Ronan sits down on the grass and picks up a dandelion, blowing, making the puff fly everywhere. He starts talking, not really completely aware of what he’s saying, but Adam looks sad and he wants to make it better, he wants to make him smile, if just for a second, so he starts talking.

‘Did I ever tell you about the Matthew and Nutella Incident?’ He asks and Adam shakes his head slowly, letting Ronan know he’s listening.

‘We were all outside painting the house, and then suddenly mom gets this high voice, like all worried, and asks where Matthew is. And dad climbs down the ladder and looks around and says he doesn’t know, so mom drops the brush and runs into the kitchen, and dad runs into the barn because maybe he’s in there?’ Ronan picks up a strand of grass and rips it to small pieces, glancing up at Adam who’s still petting the calf.

‘Then we hear mom screaming from inside the house,’ he continues. ‘I mean, not screaming like bad-screaming, more like laugh-screaming, sort of? She’s yelling dad’s name and then we can hear her laughing so Declan and me run into the kitchen. So when we get there dad’s there too, and then we see Matthew.’ Ronan smiles to himself and picks up another piece of grass. ‘He’s sitting on the floor with this large jar of Nutella open, and then a bottle of milk by his side and he’s poured milk into the jar and then he has his toy cars, and there’s just Nutella _everywhere_ , like, finger-marks on the walls and his cheeks are covered, and he’s just sitting there like a chocolate-monster grinning at us.’

Adam looks over at Ronan and he’s smiling now.

‘He was wearing a white shirt, but it wasn’t white anymore it was just soaked in milk and Nutella. Mom and dad couldn’t stop laughing.’

Adam starts laughing, dumps down beside Ronan, and Ronan rolls over on his back as well, laughing, laughing, laughing.

Before he bikes home that day he smiles at him and says _thank you_ again. Ronan wants to hug him goodbye – so he does. When he wraps his arm around him, Adam freezes up and Ronan quickly lets go. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers, looking away.

‘It’s okay,’ Adam replies after a second. ‘Just wasn’t—prepared.’

‘Thanks for today,’ Ronan changes the subject. ‘Are you coming tomorrow?’

‘I hope so,’ Adam answers. It’s never known with certainty whether Adam comes in the weekends – sometimes he’s there almost before the sun rises but other times he doesn’t come at all. After those weekends, he always looks especially exhausted Monday. He always looks tired – Ronan’s never really seen any kids look tired like that before, only sometimes he sees mom looks tired like that, after weeks where dad’s been gone, but never _kids_.

Adam never tells, and Ronan never asks.

  
Adam does show up that Saturday, early as day. He’s on his bike, which he hasn’t had problems with since that one time.

They go exploring the Barns. Hands clasped together and a flashlight in Ronan’s right hand. They lie down in the hay on the loft. Ronan drags Adam after him into the kitchen, where he opens the fridge and gets out things to make sandwiches.

He clumsily spreads pesto across the bread and adds ham and tomatoes. He asks Adam to go to his room to get a backpack and then he fills two bottles with lemonade. He climbs on top off the table, opens the cupboard, and gets out two chocolate bars.

When Adam gets back he puts everything into the bag and slings it over his shoulder. ‘Let’s go,’ he says, shyly holding out his hand. Adam grabs it and smiles at him – a smile Ronan’s only ever seen directed at him, all secret, mischievous, _friend-like_. _We’re friends_ , he reminds himself. _He’s my friend_. He feels something kicking inside his stomach.

He smiles back at him and drags him outside to the bikes. ‘Where’d you want to go?’ he asks, jumping onto his bike.

‘Anywhere,’ Adam says and it sounds like he means exactly that: _anywhere_. Ronan realizes then, that’d he’d probably go anywhere with Adam as well.

‘Let’s go to the woods,’ he says. ‘Last there’s a loser!’ he screams before threading fast and hard and racing off.

‘CHEATER!’ he hears Adam laugh behind him and Ronan looks up at the sky and laughs, legs still kicking.

Adam overtakes him on the inside, looks back and screams “loser!” before turning his head again, laughing loud and free. The word doesn’t sting, and Ronan smiles. He could never be mad about Adam laughing like that.

When they get to the woods, they’re both breathing heavily, Ronan throwing off the backpack and collapsing on the ground, hands on his stomach.

‘Loser,’ Adam says, poking his shoulder. ‘Loser, loser, loser.’

Adam pokes his shoulder, his side, his stomach, and suddenly he’s sitting on top of him, tickling him everywhere. Ronan’s gasping for breath and his legs are kicking into the air. Adam’s laughing loudly and he keeps repeating the word over and over again, _loser, loser, loser_.

He rolls over and lies beside Ronan. The treetops above them are shielding for the sun and casting shadows on their small bodies.

‘I’m hungry,’ Ronan states, not moving to get up and grab the bag.

‘Thirsty,’ Adam responds. ‘My legs hurt.’

‘My stomach hurts,’ Ronan adds.

Adam sits up and crawls over to pick up the backpack where Ronan threw it. He crawls back to Ronan and sits down cross-legged in front of him. Ronan sits up as well.

Adam zips up the bag and hands Ronan first a sandwich, and then a bottle. Then he takes out the other things, opens his own bottle, and takes large gulps of it.

Ronan opens his as well but just as he puts the bottle to his lips Adam very quietly whispers _loser_ and Ronan starts laughing and spits lemonade everywhere.

‘Ew,’ Adam says. ‘That was s _uch_ a loser thing to do!’ He wipes lemonade off his cheek.

‘You’re the loser,’ Ronan grins, unwrapping his sandwich and taking a bite. ‘Mega loser.’

‘Still faster than you though,’ Adam laughs, biting into his sandwich as well.

They sit in silence for a while, just eating and drinking and looking at the trees around them. Ronan looks at Adam all starry-eyed, awed; Adam doesn’t look too tired right now. He looks alive and real and beautiful. He looks happy.

Adam looks at Ronan and he thinks _this is the best day of my life_.

They eat the chocolate bars and Adam almost spits his out when Ronan asks, “What do you call a deer without eyes?” and continues, “ _No eye- deer_ ” when Adam shrugs.

‘That was _awful_ ,’ he says when he’s finished chewing.

Ronan shrugs and smiles at him. ‘Made you laugh though.’

‘Because it was so _bad_ ,’ Adam says. ‘A loser joke.’

‘ _Eye_ wouldn’t know,’ Ronan says.

‘Ugh,’ Adam says, but he’s smiling, punching Ronan’s shoulder. ‘Nerd.’

When they get back to the Barns, Ronan asks if he wants to play hide & seek, because it’s his favourite game. Adam nods enthusiastically.

First round, Ronan hides in his parents’ closet and Adam finds him within ten minutes. Adam hides behind the couch in the living room and when Ronan pops in he asks Aurora if she’s seen Adam and when she says “no” he moves on to the next room. It takes him ages to find him and when he finally does, he calls his mom a _traitor_.

‘Looks like you need better _eyes_ ,’ Adam jokes, and starts laughing when Ronan glares at him. ‘Come on, that was funny!’

‘No,’ Ronan replies sternly. ‘That was a loser joke.’

‘You’re the loser,’ Adam says. ‘I won this round.’

‘One… two… three…’ Ronan starts counting, covering his eyes, and Adam jumps up. He runs to Ronan’s room and hides in one corner of it. He sits there for a while and he begins to look around the room.

What’s that in the corner? Is that a Gameboy? I’m pretty sure that’s a Gameboy, he thinks.

He slowly crawls towards it and sits in front of it. He reaches out his hand and experimentally pushes a button. He quickly forgets all about hide & seek and starts playing instead.

‘Found you!’ Ronan says from the door, before really noticing what Adam’s doing. Adam almost doesn’t hear him and doesn’t look away from the game.

‘I haven’t thought about that old thing for ages,’ he says, sitting down beside Adam. ‘Was going to get rid of it…’ It’s not exactly a lie, but it’s obviously not the real truth either. By now he knows how Adam works though, and he knows Adam’s probably never played before.

He lets Adam keep it and gets a new one himself – his mom doesn’t even raise an eyebrow when he tells her he gave Adam his Gameboy and asks if he could get another. They play for hours, sitting beside each other on the floor of Ronan’s bedroom.

Super Mario – Adam easily winning all the levels Ronan never could. His favourite world is number seven and when Ronan asks why he tells it’s because he’s always dreamt of living on a cloud. Cotton-soft, white, and clean.

‘There’s probably no cinnamon rolls in the sky,’ Ronan says solemnly, even though what he really wants to ask is why Adam wants to live somewhere without him.

‘We could bring some,’ Adam replies, and Ronan starts smiling when he hears the word _we_. Maybe Adam doesn’t want to live somewhere without him after all.

 

* * *

  
If he has a lot of homework, Adam insists they do some before they go out and play. If he doesn’t have a lot, he’ll do it that night at home. He doesn’t exactly know where he prefers to do it. Sometimes his dad will leave him alone while working on subtraction because it’s school, and he wants a smart boy. Sometimes he’ll throw his books at the wall, because ‘why is he wasting time on _school_ , go fetch me a fucking beer, kid.’

‘I have to do maths,’ he says. ‘And reading. 30 minutes every day.’

‘ _Why_?’ Ronan asks. He’s not exactly a fan of school – he’d rather be outside, playing soccer in the garden, petting the cows, and riding their bikes to the woods than do _maths_.

‘Because it’s important,’ Adam says. ‘Mom says school’s important.’

‘But it’s so _loserly_ ,’ Ronan complains. ‘And boring.’

‘I’ll read aloud,’ Adam promises, which quietens Ronan because while he might not like to read himself, he _does_ love to listen to stories. Especially when Adam’s the one reading.

They’re in the middle of _A Series of Unfortunate Events_. Adam checked the first two books out of the library and Ronan got so into them he badgered his mom until she bought the entire series for him.

They sit beside each other in the lower bunk of Ronan’s bed so Ronan can see the drawings as Adam reads.

 _‘In order to get a better sense of exactly how the Baudelaire orphans felt as they began the gruelling journey up the stairs to Mr and Mrs Squalor's penthouse apartment,_ ’ Adam reads, _‘you might find it useful to close your eyes as you read this chapter, because the light was so dim from the small candles on the ground that it felt as if their eyes were closed even when they were looking as hard as they could._ ’

Adam looks over at Ronan and sees he’s closed his eyes. His head is dropped back against the wall, and he’s humming softly.

‘Go on,’ he says, and Adam turns his attention back to the page.

He finishes the chapter, and then he finishes the next one as well. He closes the book and moves to get out of bed but Ronan grabs him by the wrist and looks at him. ‘Please continue,’ he asks, smiling softly.

‘Thought you wanted to go outside?’ Adam replies. ‘Thought reading was _loserly_ …’

‘ _Please?_ ’ Ronan repeats in a soft voice.

Adam smiles at him and crawls back under the blanket, crossing his legs. Ronan smiles eagerly at him and lays his head on his shoulder.

‘ _If you are ever forced to take a chemistry class,_ ’ Adam begins in his soft voice, and Ronan settles in under the covers, closing his eyes. ‘Hope I’m not,’ he whispers, and Adam smiles as he continues reading.

Aurora knocks on the door a couple of hours later and finds them entangled- a mess of limbs and pillows and hair sticking out under the blanket. She doesn’t want to disturb them – she’s seen how tired Adam looks as well, God knows he deserves the rest – but it’s late and his parents must be waiting for him.

She knocks quietly on the door and coughs softly.

Adam blinks awake instantly and is sitting up within seconds. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says and his voice is sleep-heavy but far from incomprehensible. Ronan, who’s still lying down, first tugs at Adam’s wrist and then pulls the blanket over his head. He murmurs something from beneath the covers.

‘It’s getting late,’ Aurora says. ‘Do you want to stay for dinner, Adam?’

‘I—’ he says, pausing for a second. ‘I can’t. I have to—I have to get home.’ He stumbles out of the bed, pulling one of the blankets and a pillow with him, and Ronan sits up, rubbing at his eyes. ‘Are you going home?’ he says, yawning. ‘Why?’

‘Cause it’s late,’ Adam says. ‘And my dad—’ he stops himself before he says something he doesn’t want to say.

‘Will you come again tomorrow?’ Ronan asks solemnly, and Adam smiles at him and nods jerkily. ‘I’ll come tomorrow,’ he answers, barely above a whisper. Then he turns around and smiles slightly at Aurora and nods once. ‘Goodbye Mrs. Lynch,’ he says. ‘Thank you for having me.’

‘You’re always welcome Adam,’ she smiles at him and ruffles his hair. ‘Have a nice evening.’

Ronan follows him out, and watches as he bikes away.

 

* * *

  
Declan says he’s starting a soccer team. He tells Ronan and Adam that he’ll train them to get some practice.

He makes them run laps around the garden. _Faster, faster, faster_ , he yells while Adam and Ronan run as fast as is humanly possible until they all but collapse on the grass, breaths coming out raggedly, _fighting_ not to pass out.

‘Declan,’ Ronan gasps. ‘You suck.’

‘Do you want to be good or not?’ he shoots back, kicking the ball towards him. ‘Get up!’

Adam and Ronan get up.

He makes them do sit-ups, two hundred. Race each other, _come on, you can go faster than that!_ He tells Ronan to go into the goal, and makes Adam kick the ball. He tells them to switch positions after fifty kicks.

Sometimes Matthew joins as well. He mostly just runs around and giggles a lot, falling over when he tries to kick the ball. Declan goes easy on him because he’s small.

Adam and Ronan aren’t exactly big either but that doesn’t make him go easier on them.

‘Kick the ball five hundred times,’ he says. ‘Mom says I have to do my homework but you _have_ to. As your trainer, I’m telling you to do this!’

Ronan sighs but kicks the ball. ‘One,’ he says and Adam tames it. ‘Two,’ he says and kicks it towards Ronan.

‘Great,’ Declan says. ‘Five hundred, go, go, go.’

‘Three,’ Ronan says, kicking. They continue, four, five, twenty, fifty-two.

‘This is _boring_ ,’ Ronan says, kicking the ball again.

‘Yeah,’ Adam says, returning it.

‘Want to do something else?’ Ronan asks, looking mischievous and secretive. Adam returns the look and nods enthusiastically.

‘Let’s go, loser,’ Ronan says, holding out his hand, waiting for Adam to come take it. He does.

Ronan drags him to the cows. They still spend a lot of time with the cows.

‘Hi Angle Grinder,’ Adam says, heading directly to her. He strokes her head softly and she stares at him with large, black eyes. He’s sure she smiles at him. ‘How’ve you been, love?’ She moos softly and he claps her head.

Ronan’s standing over Rotavator, patting her back. ‘Good girl,’ he says, stroking her. He looks over at Adam, his hands resting on Angle Grinder’s head, staring into her eyes.

‘Way nicer than kicking stupid balls,’ Ronan says, moving towards Dream, petting her softly.

‘Definitely,’ Adam states. ‘I don’t even like soccer.’

‘Me neither,’ Ronan replies. ‘I don’t even like _sports_.’

‘Didn’t actually know Declan liked it either…’ Adam muses.

‘Maybe he’s just taking advantage of us,’ Ronan says.

‘Learned a new word, Ronan?’ Adam asks, turning his head and smirking at his friend.

‘Shut up,’ Ronan retorts, blushing. ‘I know what _advantage_ means.’

‘Didn’t say you didn’t,’ Adam shoots back.

‘Whatever,’ Ronan says, lying down on the grass. ‘He’s probably just a giant loser. Like you. Wow, I’m surrounded by losers.’

Adam looks over at him, face completely blank. ‘Look who’s talking,’ he says, deadpan. ‘The biggest loser this world has ever seen.’

‘Definitely am bigger,’ Ronan says. ‘You’re _tiny_.’

‘You’re _two_ inches taller,’ Adam retorts. ‘And I’d rather be short than a loser.’

‘But you’re short _and_ a loser,’ Ronan says. ‘A shortser.’

Adam stares at him, like he’s wondering what led him to this, and why he’s best friends with Ronan Lynch. ‘That was awful,’ he states, pronouncing each word slowly. ‘That didn’t even make _sense_.’

‘Maybe not for _shortsers_ ,’ Ronan grins, ‘but perfectly well for the rest of us.’

‘Loser,’ Adam says.

 

* * *

  
Adam doesn’t really have any friends in school. He’s not exactly being bullied; he just doesn’t have any friends. Part of it is on himself; he doesn’t seek out the other kids, doesn’t go looking for friends. He knows that friendships usually involve visiting each other at home, and he doesn’t want anyone to see where he lives, and see his dad, and see his dad do bad things. He’s also pretty sure his dad would never allow him to have someone over to play.

He spends most breaks doing homework for the next day – which is a win-win situation; really, because it means he can play with Ronan outside later, instead of sitting at the kitchen table practicing subtraction.

He doesn’t really care; he has Ronan. Ronan is his friend.

  
Ronan doesn’t really have any friends in school. Everyone is sort of terrified of him.

He doesn’t care; he doesn’t really want any, he has Adam.

 

* * *

  
November comes around, and Ronan’s birthday is coming up.

One day when Adam comes over, Ronan walks up to him proudly and hands him an envelope. On it is written his name in clumsy block letters, which Adam recognises as Ronan’s handwriting.

‘This is for you,’ Ronan says, smiling wide at him. He looks at him expectantly and toys anxiously with the leather bands around his wrist. He’s looking hopeful. ‘Come on, open it,’ he says, bouncing on his feet.

Adam smiles at him and does as he says. He opens the envelope carefully, making sure not to ruin it.

When it’s opened, he pulls out its contents: a card. On the front is a large cupcake with pink frosting and green sprinkles; above it is printed “LET’S PARTY!” in different colours.

Adam looks up at Ronan, who’s smiling widely at him.

He opens the card and reads what it says on the inside. It’s an invitation to Ronan’s birthday party – on Saturday at two o’clock.

‘Can you make it?’ Ronan asks in a tone that’s a mix between nervous and hopeful. ‘It’s just mom and dad and Matthew and Declan. I hope you can come!’

‘I hope so too,’ Adam replies, staring slaw-jacked at the invitation. This is the first birthday invitation he’s ever received.

‘There’ll be lots of cake,’ Ronan states. ‘Mom promised. And hot chocolate too!’

‘I hope I can come,’ Adam says. ‘What do you—what’s on your wish list?’ He swallows hard and doesn’t look Ronan in the eye. He doesn’t know how he’s going to acquire a proper present for him – he could ask mom but he knows it’s a lost cause.

‘I don’t know,’ Ronan says, shrugging. ‘I’ve got everything I want.’ He smiles shyly at Adam.

Adam smiles back at him, giddy. ‘I hope I can come,’ he repeats, already thinking about what he’s going to do regarding presents.

Later, Ronan goes to the bathroom, and Adam runs up to Aurora. ‘Hi,’ he says, bouncing on his feet, wringing his hands awkwardly. ‘I was—thank you for inviting me to Ronan’s birthday,’ he says. ‘Can you help me with his present?’

‘Of course, Adam,’ she says. ‘What were you thinking, love?’

‘I was—I don’t know if it’s stupid, I was—maybe, like, a scavenger hunt?’ he’s looking up at her with huge and hopeful eyes.

‘That sounds _wonderful_ ,’ Aurora smiles at him and Adam lightens up and smiles back at her.

‘I’ll work on some clues at home and show you next time I come,’ he says very solemnly. ‘I want to make him happy.’

‘He’ll be overjoyed just by you being there,’ she says and Adam feels his heart beat faster. He still can’t really believe he has a _friend_.

When he gets home, his dad is passed out on the couch and he drags his mom with him into the kitchen. He proudly and silently gets out the invitation from his backpack and hands it to her.

‘Ronan invited me to his birthday,’ he says, staring at her with wide eyes. ‘Can I go?’

‘Of course, sweetie,’ his mom says in a tired, disconnected voice. As if she’s not really, fully there. She’s never really, fully there. ‘That sounds lovely.’

‘I know,’ Adam says. ‘And there’s going to be cake, and hot chocolate, and I’m working on a _treasure hunt_ for him! He’s my best friend.’

‘But it’s better you play at his place.’ She says and Adam nods at her. ‘I know,’ he says. ‘I don’t mind. His place is _cool_. He has _cows_ and,’ he leans over and whispers, ‘a _computer_. We play on it sometimes. He also has so many books; we read together.’

Adam looks at his mom, who’s smiling at him. He wishes she could meet him – but only on a good day. He does, but he also doesn’t. His mom is—sometimes she’s really, really good. It’s easier with his dad, more clean-cut; he’s always just—he’s never good. His mom is good—but she’s also not. She’s—he doesn’t really know how to explain it.

 

It’s easier to hate dad because he’s always bad. It’s easy enough to hate the fist that hits you – it’s harder to hate the one that sure enough let’s the fist hit you but also helps clean you afterwards. The one that feeds you.

‘Say hi to him from me,’ she says and pulls Adam into a hug. She kisses his forehead. ‘I’m glad you have a friend.’

That night, he crawls under his blanket with a flashlight, a notebook, and a green crayon. He doodles a tree first, then turns the page and scrunches up his eyebrows in concentration. He needs to come up with the clues that’ll lead Ronan around the Barns. He also needs to come up with what’ll be at the end. Maybe he could ask Aurora to help him bake cinnamon rolls? Those are Ronan’s favourite.

As the first clue, he makes a crossword. _Fill in all the words correctly and you will be able to read, top to bottom in the column under the arrow, where to find the next clue_ , he writes in his neatest handwriting. He draws a figure of squares beneath.

                                                  

1) Count —? 2) Klaus loves to —. 3) Oldest Baudelaire child. 4) Girl triplet. 5) The Grim —. 6) Who wrote A Series Of Unfortunate Events? 

As the second clue, he writes _unscramble this word to find the next clue_. L O V I N G M I R O

The third reads, _if you want your teeth to shine, pick this up and spend some time_.

Forth one is _how do you get to Neverland?_ And the answer, of course, is _second star to the right and straight on ‘till morning_ and Ronan is supposed to go to his room where his glow-in-the-dark stars are.

The fifth and last one reads _where we met for the first time_.

He closes his notebook softly, and puts it back in his backpack. Then he crawls back under the covers and closes his eyes. He falls asleep thinking about how _cool_ Ronan’s birthday is going to be, and wondering what’s going to be at the final place in the treasure hunt.

  
Adam wakes up that morning with an idea for a present.

He goes to the Barns again after school the next day. Ronan smiles wide when he sees him, and the first thing he asks is whether he can come to his birthday. ‘Have you talked with your mom and dad yet?’

‘I can come,’ he answers. ‘And my mom says hi.’

‘I wish I could meet your mom,’ Ronan says pensively. ‘She sounds cool…’

‘So do I,’ Adam says. ‘But she’s always sort of busy, so…’

‘Well, as long as I get to see you,’ Ronan replies, beaming at him. ‘I can’t _wait_ for my birthday,’ he continues. ‘I turn _eight_! That’s big.’

‘I know,’ Adam nods.

‘I’ll officially be as old but still way cooler than you.’

‘Ronan,’ Adam says and puts his hand on his cheek. ‘I need to tell you something. You will never be cooler than me.’

Ronan’s eyebrows furrows and he looks insulted. Deeply insulted. ‘Excuse _me_ , Adam,’ he states. ‘I am the _coolest_.’

‘Ronan,’ Adam says, shaking his head slowly. ‘We’ve been over this. You are a loser. I, on the other hand—’

‘Are also a loser,’ Ronan says. ‘My favourite loser.’

‘You’re mine too,’ Adam says, pulling his hand away.

‘Want me to completely destroy you at Mario Kart?’ Ronan asks, smiling.

‘ _Please_ ,’ Adam says. ‘As if you could.’

They race to the living room where the Nintendo is connected to the TV and Ronan turns it on. Adam always plays as Luigi; Ronan always _wants_ to play as Daisy but he ends up choosing Wario, because once Declan teased him about choosing the princess.

Adam wins, naturally. ‘Thought you said you were going to _destroy_ me?’ he says.

‘Just wait,’ Ronan says. ‘I’m being nice now, letting you win. Won’t last long, though.’

‘Right,’ Adam says, drawing out the vowel. ‘Whatever gets you through the day.’ He pushes a couple of buttons and Ronan lets out a moan of agony. ‘ _Rainbow Road_ ,’ he says. ‘Why, Adam, _why?_ ’

‘It’s my favourite,’ Adam says. ‘Like the challenge. Not up for a challenge, Ronan?’

‘Loser,’ Ronan says, sulk turning into a smile.

‘I literally just _won_.’

‘I let you,’ Ronan shoots back. ‘I let you win.’

They play for a while longer (Adam winning every round) and then he tells Ronan he has to pee, gets up and goes to knock on the door of Declan’s room. ‘Come in,’ he says and Adam opens the door slowly.

‘Declan,’ he says. ‘Could I borrow your computer to work on my birthday present for Ronan?’

‘Sure,’ Declan says. ‘What’re you working on?’

Adam wants to say it’s a secret but he’s also bubbling over with excitement and he wants to _share_. ‘Promise you don’t tell him,’ he says first and Declan makes the sign of the cross in front of his heart and holds up his hand. ‘Promise,’ he says.

‘I’m going to record me reading his favourite book,’ Adam says, beaming at Declan.

‘That’s _cool_ ,’ Declan says. ‘He loves listening to stories.’

‘I know,’ Adam says. ‘Do you think he’ll like it?’

‘He’ll _love_ it,’ Declan reassures him. ‘I have a portable recorder you can use if you want,’ he continues. ‘I’ll help you connect it to the computer afterwards and put it onto a CD.’

‘That’d be so cool,’ Adam says, starry-eyed.

‘Here, I’ll show you.’ Declan gets up and finds the device he was talking about. He shows Adam how it works and then pushes into his hands, telling him to take care of it. ‘If you need anything more, just ask!’

‘Thank you,’ Adam says. ‘What are you giving him?’

‘Dunno,’ Declan shrugs. ‘Have to ask mom.’

‘Thank you,’ Adam says again and walks back out of Declan’s room. He goes back in the living room. ‘I have to go now,’ he says and Ronan looks up at him. ‘Okay,’ he says. ‘Will you come tomorrow?’

‘Maybe,’ Adam says, slinging his bag over his shoulder. ‘I don’t know. I might not come before your birthday.’ He stands for a while, just looking at Ronan. Ronan looks back. The game is on pause.

‘I’ll see you then,’ Ronan says then, clearing his throat. ‘Thanks for today.’

‘Thank you,’ Adam says and turns around. Then he turns back around again, looks at Adam, and waves awkwardly. ‘You’re a really good friend.’

‘So are you,’ Ronan says, smiling wide. ‘Sleep well tonight.’

‘You too,’ Adam says. ‘Dream of something nice!’

‘You too.’

Adam steers into the kitchen where he finds Aurora. He looks at her and mouths _can you come outside with me?_ Aurora takes Adam’s hand and they walk outside.

Adam takes off his backpack and opens it, gets out his notebook.

‘Here are the clues I made,’ he says proudly. ‘What do you think?’

Aurora takes the notebook in her hands and looks down at it, a concentrated look on her face. ‘This is great, Adam,’ she says. ‘He’ll be so happy.’

Adam practically beams at her. ‘If I give you the clues, will you hide them for me? And tell him to start the treasure hunt?’

‘Of course,’ she says. ‘And you’ll be waiting the final place then, right?’

Adam nods at her.

‘Wonderful,’ she says. ‘It’s going to be great!’

‘Thank you, ma’am,’ he says and nods at her, just once. ‘Have a nice evening.’

‘You too, Adam,’ Aurora says. ‘Thanks for today.’

  
Thankfully, his dad is away that afternoon as well. He’s away through the evening and night as well, which means Adam is able to record himself reading The Bad Beginning. He gets his mom to help him; she reads Violet and Count Olaf’s lines.

He thinks it turns out really great.

He’s tired at school the next day after staying up so late, but it’s worth it because it’s for Ronan. He wants the present to be _perfect_. He’s sad he can’t buy anything but maybe this will be all right too. He hopes it will.

After school, he bikes to the Barns but instead of going straight to Ronan’s room, he goes to Declan’s.

He’s smiling wide as he holds out the recorder and hands it to Declan. ‘Can you help me do that thing you said you could do?’

Declan nods at him and picks up the device from Adam’s hand. ‘Sure,’ he says and moves to the desk where his computer is.

Adam stares starry-eyed as Declan works magic with the computer. He moves the mouse around and clicks a bunch of times and the sound of it echoes in Adam’s head. He’s never had a computer.

‘Done,’ he says, handing Adam a CD in a clear pack.

‘Thank you,’ Adam says, holding the CD as if it’s something sacred, as if it’s the body of Jesus Christ himself, holy, holy, holy.

He stuffs it in the front room of his backpack and moves back to Ronan’s room. ‘Hey loser,’ he says and Ronan’s head flies up, smiling at him. ‘Loser,’ he says back and Adam smiles at him.

  
‘Here,’ Aurora says, handing Ronan a piece of paper. It’s his birthday and Adam isn’t there yet. He doesn’t know what’s going on – when will he _come_? ‘Do this.’

Ronan accepts it and sees it’s a crossword. He sits down by the table and reads the first question. _Count —?_ He thinks for a second, and then remembers. He writes OLAF in clumsy letters in the top row. _Klaus loves to —?_ Easy, he thinks. Klaus loves to read, just like Adam. They’re both nerds. He writes READ.

He fills out the crossword and gets the code word. It spells out “FRIDGE.”

He looks curiously at his mom and she nods for him to go ahead, carry on. He opens the fridge. Inside it, he finds a piece of paper behind the milk.

_Unscramble this word to find the next clue._

He stares at the letters, tries to figure out what it’s supposed to say. L O V I N G M I R O. Loving mirror? What does that mean? It’s probably not that.

He toys with the pencil between his fingers and then it clicks. Living room.

He smiles to himself for solving it, and moves on to where it’s telling him to go.

He finds the piece of paper tucked away under one of the pillows. He unfolds it and slowly reads what it says. _If you want your teeth to shine, pick this up and spend some time_.

He heads to the bathroom and finds the next paper slip in the tooth glass. _How do you get to Neverland?_ It reads.

Ronan has watched Peter Pan countless times so this one’s easy. _Second star to the right and straight on ‘till morning_. He doesn’t know where that’s supposed to be, though. Second star—star, star, star… Where do they have stars?

His room! There are stars in his room, by his bed, that glow in the dark! And he’s in bed until morning too, asleep. This must be it.

He heads to his room and right on his pillow lays another folded piece of paper. _Where we met the first time_ , it reads.

He almost squeals when he reads Adam’s nice handwriting and runs out of the house, straight to where he’d walked over months ago to ask if Adam was okay. He’s happy he walked over there.

He gets there and sees Adam sitting on the ground, just as he had that day. His face lights up in a smile when he sees Ronan come closer.

‘ _Adam_ ,’ he breathes out, smiling so wide he almost can’t talk. ‘I thought you weren’t coming.’

‘Of course I was coming,’ Adam says. ‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

He hands him the wrapped-up present and Ronan stares at him in awe. Aurora’s taking pictures, but Adam and Ronan aren’t looking at her.

‘Happy birthday,’ Adam says. ‘I’m still cooler than you.’

‘You wish, loser,’ Ronan says, unwrapping the present. Inside it is a CD on which is written ASOUE: The Bad Beginning. Special gift for Ronan Lynch, by Adam Parrish.

Ronan looks up from it and back at Adam.

‘I hope you like it,’ Adam says. ‘And you liked the treasure hunt.’

‘Loved it,’ Ronan says. ‘Love this too.’

They just quietly look at each other, smiling.

‘Who wants cake?’ Aurora asks, and they race back into the house.

There are cinnamon rolls and muffins and chocolate cake; hot chocolate with both whipped cream _and_ marshmallows. Adam can’t stop staring and smiling; he’s never seen anything as great.

Ronan can’t stop looking at him.


	2. Nine years old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to estrella for cheering on me and coming with ideas, to kayla for betaing, and to everyone for reading.
> 
> tw (referenced) child abuse.

There’s a fundraiser in Adam’s class.

He’s freaking out- silently, of course. He never brings anything to fundraisers or other things where you’re supposed to bring something. Last December, the teachers had arranged that everyone should bring a small wrapped gift, then they’d written all the students’ names on small pieces of paper, and every day drawn out the name of someone who’d then get a present. Adam hadn’t brought a present, and his name wasn’t added to the name bag, and it was _excruciating_.

The teachers always reprimand him when he doesn’t bring anything – they tried to call home last year but couldn’t get through. The phone doesn’t work; the bills didn’t get paid.

He’s freaking out, he’s trying to come up with solutions, but his mind is blank: he’s nine years old, how is he supposed to bake anything for a fundraiser.

He’s sitting beside Ronan in his bed, playing Mario Kart on his Gameboy. He’s out of it, though, he keeps coming in last and Ronan’s looking over his shoulder, wondering loudly _what was up with Adam._

‘You’re losing,’ he states, matter-of-factly. ‘You never lose.’

Adam doesn’t reply, hits A and starts over. He quickly falls behind, Yoshi overtaking him. He gives up, and puts down the Gameboy. He lies down on Ronan’s bed, and Ronan looks at him weird. ‘What’s up?’ he asks. ‘You never lose,’ he repeats.

‘I don’t know,’ Adam replies. ‘Tired, I guess.’ He lets his head drop back and closes his eyes.

Ronan hums softly, lying down on the bed as well. It’s one-size, but it fits two kids well enough.

He turns his head the other way, and wraps his hand around Adam’s. ‘Sleep now,’ he whispers and squeezes Adam’s hand.

‘Mmm,’ Adam hums and squeezes back.

  
Aurora finds out about the fundraiser. She knows Adam’s teacher – they’re not _friends_ , but they know each other. They run into each other at the hairdresser.

‘Aurora,’ she purrs. ‘Long time no see!’

‘ _Cath_ erine,’ Aurora replies, stressing the first syllable of the name. ‘How are you?’

‘Oh, I’m fine,’ she says. ‘Just fine. How have you been, darling?’ She’s one of those people who calls everyone _darling_ and _love_.

‘Just fine,’ she answers, smiling. ‘Niall’s away a lot, you know how it is.’

‘Stressful,’ Catherine replies slow and understandingly, nodding slowly. The hairdresser is applying some kind of balm to her hair.

‘How are things at the school? Kids behaving properly?’ Aurora jokes.

‘Ah, yes,’ Catherine says. ‘We’re doing a fundraiser and there’s this one kid – Parrish – and I’m worried he’s not going to bring anything. I don’t know what’s up, but he never brings anything in when we’re doing things.’

‘Oh,’ Aurora replies softly.

‘I know,’ Catherine continues. ‘Parents need to get more _involved_ , education isn’t just reserved for when they’re at school, there needs to be more interaction between home and us. They _need_ to be more _active_ and participate in the things we arrange.’

‘Yes,’ Aurora agrees. ‘Definitely. What’d you say the kid’s name was again?’

‘Parrish,’ she says. ‘Adam Parrish. Don’t know what’s up with that one, tried calling home last year but nobody picked up.’

‘I wish you all the best,’ Aurora smiles, looking into the mirror in front of her. The stylist is doing something wild with her hair; curls are appearing.

‘Thank you, love,’ Catherine smiles back at her. ‘How are your kids, though? Haven’t seen them in _ages_ …’

‘They’re good,’ Aurora replies. ‘Growing so much, so big already…’

They continue talking about kids and life and whatever it is you speak about with acquaintances in the hairdresser’s chair.

After the stylist bobs Aurora’s hair a final time and she’s paid, she heads to the grocery shop. She doesn’t know much about Adam’s home situation – he never speaks much about it – but he _has_ seemed a little tense the last couple of days; maybe he’s been thinking about the upcoming fundraiser and how his parents apparently aren’t going to bake anything for it.

Luckily, Aurora knows a recipe or two.

She’s already starting to make plans: what cakes they’re going to make, how they’re going to decorate them, what ingredients they’ll need.

She picks her kids up from school that day, and drives home. ‘Help me empty the car,’ she asks and Ronan rolls his eyes but picks up a bag and goes into the house. Declan takes the other and Matthew carries a single banana.

When Adam arrives half an hour or so later, Ronan is sitting impatiently by the kitchen table.

‘We’re going to bake today!’ he says excitedly, jumping up.

‘That sounds nice,’ Adam says, mustering up a smile, even though something stings inside him because he doesn’t know what to do about that fundraiser, he needs to bring something, and now they’re going to _bake_ – so close, so far.

‘I heard you were doing a fundraiser for class,’ Aurora says, putting on an apron. ‘I’ve been looking for an excuse to get some of all my flour used. It’s nearing the expiration date.’

Adam eyes her up suspiciously. That does not sound very probable – couldn’t she just have _baked_ something, she bakes almost every _day_ , how is her flour nearing the expiration date? Hmm…

He quickly pushes those thoughts out his mind, though, because this is the solution he’s been looking for – if Aurora helps bake, and she’s a _good_ baker, he can bring that and the teachers won’t be angry, and everything will be okay. Everything will be okay.

‘I need you to measure sugar,’ she says, rolling up her sleeves. ‘No, actually, first I need you two to go wash your hands.’

‘ _Ugh_ ,’ Ronan replies, pouting but pushing up his sleeves.

‘I don’t want _dirt_ in these cookies, Ronan,’ Aurora states sternly and he goes to the bathroom. Adam trails after and when they’re in there, Ronan sprays water at him.

Adam grins at him, and sprays water right back. Ronan starts laughing, and soon Aurora pops her head in and looks at them. ‘I told you to wash your _hands_ ,’ she states, ‘not take a shower in the sink.’

‘We weren’t!’ they both say, looking at her with wide eyes. She just looks at them with a blank face.

‘We _weren’t_ ,’ Ronan repeats and looks over at Adam. ‘Tell her we weren’t.’

‘We weren’t showering in the sink, ma’am,’ Adam says, looking Aurora in the eye. ‘We wouldn’t even fit in it.’

‘Oh, I’m sure you would’ve found a way,’ Aurora says, smiling now. ‘Now come on, we’ve got cookies to bake!’

They return to the kitchen, clean-handed, and Aurora takes down the kitchen scale and puts a bowl on it. ‘We need 200 grams of sugar,’ she says and Ronan puts his hands around the bowl. ‘You can pour, Adam,’ Ronan grins, and Adam nods. He starts pouring.

‘What then, mom?’ Ronan asks, turning around and looking at her expectantly. She takes the bowl and starts cracking eggs into it.

‘Flour,’ she replies. ‘350 grams.’

Ronan and Adam stumble to get the bag and begin to pour flour into a bowl.

Aurora mixes everything together in the right order while Ronan keeps elbowing Adam in the side behind her, making him giggle.

‘ _Stop_ ,’ he whispers but Ronan looks at him, smiling so big that Adam can’t help but laugh at him.

They eat the raw cookie dough behind Aurora’s back and she pretends she doesn’t know, but the way Ronan is laughing isn’t exactly _subtle_. She can hear the quiet sound of them whispering ‘cunningly’.

She smiles to herself as she spoons out dough to place on the baking plate. Her favourite sound is the sound of them laughing.

They have to make an extra portion, because they ate so much of the dough that there isn’t anywhere near enough cookies. Then they eat five cookies each, so there _definitely_ isn’t enough for the fundraiser.

‘Ronan and Adam,’ Aurora says. ‘Do you want to help with the next batch, or?’

Ronan looks at the other boy. Ronan wants whatever Adam wants.

Adam looks at Ronan. He shrugs his shoulders. ‘What do you want?’ he asks, narrowing his eyes.

‘Go outside and play,’ Aurora states then, making the decision for them. This way, they’ll actually end up with some cookies. She smiles at them. ‘I’ll bake the next batch and clean up the kitchen.’

‘Okay,’ Ronan replies, grabbing Adam’s hand and tugging. ‘You heard the general.’

‘I heard the general,’ Adam agrees, smiling at Aurora. ‘Thank you mu—ma’am,’ he corrects, blushing furiously. Aurora smiles at him. Adam tugs at Ronan’s hand and drags the two of them outside, wanting to escape.

Ronan lets himself get dragged.

They put on jackets, and dig out hats and mittens from the basket with knitwear for winter. Ronan’s mom has made all of it. There are dozens of hats with pompoms and colourful patterns. Ronan’s wearing a white one with grey reindeer on it. Adam puts on one that looks like a strawberry.

Ronan takes Adam’s mitten-clad hand in his and drags him out the door.

They go to the tree house that Ronan built with his dad and big brother when Ronan was six.

‘This is my fort,’ Ronan decides. ‘And you’re a pirate trying to steal it from me.’

‘And I’m going to _succeed_ ,’ Adam answers, picking up a branch.

Ronan laughs. ‘I’d like to see you try, loser!’

And so the fight for the fort begins: loud yells and screams of laughter, with Adam’s face scrunched up in concentration as he tries to overtake it, Ronan yelling as he jumps straight out of it and goes to attack Adam with a branch, heavy breathing from all the running and jumping around.

  
When Adam bikes by Ronan’s on the morning he has to bring baked goods for the fundraiser, Aurora insists she drives him there instead so he doesn’t drop the cookies on the ground.

‘Thank you,’ Adam says solemnly, looking at Aurora with huge eyes. ‘I can walk home and pick up my bike here.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ Aurora says. ‘We’ll put it in the car.’

Adam gapes at her. “Don’t be _silly_.” “We’ll put it in the car.” Like it’s _nothing_. Like Adam _matters_.

‘Come on,’ she encourages. ‘Go get Ronan!’

Adam stumbles into the house and finds Ronan sprawled across his bedroom floor, four t-shirts and two pair of pants flung around the room. He’s only in boxers.

‘Ronan, why aren’t you wearing clothes?’ Adam asks.

Ronan’s head turns quickly and he narrows his eyes at Adam. ‘Adam,’ he says, obviously questioning what’s going on. ‘Why are you here?’

‘Your mom told me to get you,’ he grins. ‘We’re driving for school, like, _now_. Are you going naked?’

Ronan blushes and turns his head away. ‘I’m not going _naked_ ,’ he replies. ‘I’m not _naked_.’

‘Almost,’ Adam shrugs. ‘Why aren’t you dressed?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ronan answers even though he had hundreds of millions of _great_ reasons, right until the second Adam walked into his room. Like, “I’m not going to school” and “I don’t know what to wear” and “I don’t want to go to _school_.” They all seem lame and ridiculous now. He knows Adam would roll his eyes at him.

‘You should put on clothes,’ Adam suggests. ‘Your mom is waiting. She’s _driving_ me to school. With you.’ His eyes are huge and he’s practically beaming at Ronan. She’s _driving_ him. _Him._ He’s being _driven_. In a _car_.

Ronan stares at him and gets up from the floor. He picks up the nearest shirt and pulls it over his head. Then he jumps into a pair of pants, both legs at the same time. He jumps around the floor and almost slams into Adam.

‘It’s not faster that way,’ Adam states slowly.

‘Sure it is,’ Ronan replies. ‘Look how fast I did this.’

‘You almost broke your ankle, and toppled over a lamp.’

‘You asked me to get dressed,’ he shrugs, looking for some socks. ‘I got dressed.’

‘Loser,’ Adam smirks. ‘Anyway, come _on_.’ He turns around and runs back outside where Aurora’s waiting in the car. His bike is nowhere to be seen. Aurora waves at him, and he climbs into the backseat. ‘Ronan’s on his way,’ he tells her. ‘He had to get dressed.’

‘He wasn’t dressed?’ she asks, but she doesn’t look surprised. Adam shakes his head.

‘How’d you make him put on clothes?’ she sounds more surprised with this.

Adam scrunches up his eyebrows. ‘I don’t know,’ he answers thoughtfully. ‘I said I thought he should put on clothes and then he picked up a shirt?’ He pronounces it like a question.

‘Impressive,’ Aurora nods. ‘Maybe I should hire you to come by every morning. He’s always impossible to get into clothes.’

Then the other door flies open, and Ronan is climbing in. He’s not wearing a jacket.

‘Where’s you jacket?’ Aurora asks, eyeing him up.

‘Fuck, shit, crap,’ Ronan groans, flashing all his favourite swear words, and his mom gives him a stern look. His hand finds the door handle again and he opens it. ‘ _Fuck_ ,’ he repeats, stressing it, and looking his mom straight in the eye. ‘I’ll go get it.’

He’s back fifteen seconds later and jumps in, panting now. ‘Happy now?’ he asks his mom, who smiles at him.

‘So happy, darling.’

Ronan scowls at her, clearly because of the pet name. ‘ _Mom_ ,’ he groans. ‘I’m _punk_.’

‘You’re _eight_ ,’ Adam states.

‘Punk doesn’t have an _age_ ,’ Ronan answers looking at Adam. Ronan’s cheeks are turning pink and he _hates_ it.

‘Just yesterday you were speaking to Angle Grinder in this soft voice you always use when you’re talking to animals.’

‘Shut up,’ Ronan glares, before looking the other way. ‘I don’t do that.’

‘You do…’ Adam replies, drumming his fingers softly on the window. ‘You do it with the mice too. It’s like what Snow White does.’

‘I am _not_ Snow White,’ Ronan looks horrified.

‘I didn’t say that,’ Adam explains. ‘But you sort of are…’

‘Okay, what does that make _you_ then?’

‘I don’t know,’ Adam grins at Ronan. ‘But you are _so_ Snow White.’

‘Shut up, loser,’ Ronan groans, trying to sound annoyed and hide his smile. He thinks Adam would be Sleeping Beauty. He always looks pretty when he’s asleep. Well, he always looks pretty, but especially when he’s sleeping – he looks peaceful in a different way. His face smooth, no worries. He doesn’t say that. ‘You’re just jealous that I don’t have a soft voice especially for _you_.’

“ _But you do”_ Aurora thinks as she looks at the two of them bickering in the rear mirror, smiling to herself. He does. Her middle son has never been very gentle or soft with anything, but the way he looks at and talks about Adam is.

 

* * *

 

They’re lying on their stomachs on Ronan’s bedroom floor. When Adam knocked on the door, Aurora had opened and explained that Ronan was in the midst of cleaning his room. Adam had hurried in, and found Ronan, sitting on his bed, sulking.

‘She says I have to _clean_ ,’ he’d complained, and Adam had picked up a toy from the floor. ‘Why do I have to _clean_?’

‘Let’s make it into a game,’ Adam had replied. ‘And the quicker we’re done, the quicker we can do something else.’

Ronan had looked at him, straight in the eye, and he thought about how Adam had instantly said _we_ , how he’d joined Ronan in his suffering.

It hadn’t taken that long after they actually got started and during it, they found some old colouring books and countless sharpies and pencils so now they’re lying on the floor with them.

Adam is so focused on his drawing, his fingers pressed tightly around the Crayola (Ronan had spent five minutes laughing about the names until Adam had picked up the purple with “best friends” printed on it and drawn a small circle on his own wrist, then Ronan’s, and then proceed to exclaim that now they belonged together). His eyes are squinted, his brows furrowed, and he’s biting his lip in concentration; he wants it to be perfect.

Ronan hasn’t put his own Crayola to the paper for the past five minutes; he’s not even pretending that he isn’t looking. Adam won’t notice anyway, he’s too wrapped up in the drawing.

Ronan’s too young to understand what he’s feeling, but he’s looking at Adam’s hands – his fingers around the crayon – and his face and he thinks he’s so beautiful. He feels so happy that he’s his friend.

A strand of Adam’s hair falls in his face and he doesn’t move, maybe he doesn’t even notice it’s there. Ronan can’t help but lean over and brush it away. Adam looks up and smiles at him swiftly, then goes back to his drawing. Ronan can feel his cheeks turn red, and he pulls his eyes away from Adam turning his attention back to his drawing.

He keeps glancing up and over at Adam, looking how his lips are turning red from being bitten, how his fingers are white from squeezing the pencil, how all the colours are inside the lines, how everything is just _beautiful_.

Adam slowly rips the page out of the book, making sure not to ruin it, and after writing “best friends forever” in the bottom right corner he hands it to Ronan. ‘This is for you,’ he says and his voice is half shyness, half pride.

Ronan’s jaw drops and he very carefully accepts it. ‘Thank you,’ he breathes, voice one hundred per cent sincerity.

Adam all but beams at him. ‘You’re welcome,’ he replies, face melting into a full smile. Ronan smiles back at him.

Ronan gets up and finds some sticky tack. Then he hangs the drawing right smack in the middle of his wall, so it’s the first thing he sees when he wakes up in the morning, and the last thing he sees when goes to bed at night.

 

* * *

 

The Barns is filled with framed photographs; in all the windowsills, on all the walls, on all the shelves. Aurora is addicted to taking pictures, and she likes to adorn her house and make it _personal_. Adam thinks it’s the most _home-y_ place he’s ever been. Admittedly, he’s not been in many homes.

Admittedly, he’s not sure if his house counts as a home.

There are photographs of Niall and Aurora’s wedding; from the trip they took to Naples when they were young; baby pictures of all the Lynch brothers; family photographs with grandparents and weird uncles; Declan holding up a trophy; Ronan wearing boxing gloves; Ronan doing a handstand on top of a tree; Matthew with Nutella all over his face.

The Barns is filled with framed photographs.

The first time Adam sees himself in one, he does a double take. He can’t believe it. It’s from Ronan’s birthday and they’re sitting beside each other, Ronan wearing a green paper crown, Adam biting into a cinnamon roll, both laughing. _This is me in this picture_ , he thought. _There is a framed photograph with me in it hanging here_.

He stood staring at it for five minutes, mouth hanging slightly open.

‘What’s up?’ Ronan asked, grinning at him, voice a little confused. ‘Admiring how hot I am?’

‘Yeah, no,’ Adam said, not registering what he was saying or what Ronan had asked. ‘This is me,’ he stated, looking at Ronan, sceptical.

Ronan stared right back at him. ‘I know,’ he’d replied. ‘That’s you. And me. Best friends, remember?’

‘Yeah,’ Adam said absentmindedly, the word trailing off. ‘I remember.’

‘Adam,’ Ronan took him by the shoulder. ‘What’s up?’

‘Nothing,’ Adam replied. ‘I don’t know, I just—that’s _me_.’

‘That’s you, loser. Now come on, Dream won’t pet herself.’

Adam had let himself get dragged out to the cows.

The Barns is filled with framed photographs, and Adam is in a bunch of them. He still looks an extra time and his heart skips a beat every time he walks through the living room and sees them. There’s one of Adam and Ronan asleep in Ronan’s bed, Ronan’s hand on Adam’s chest. There’s one with all four kids dressed up for Halloween: Ronan and Adam as ghosts, Declan as a space pirate, which involved a lot of fake blood, and Matthew wearing a pumpkin costume. There’s one taken in the kitchen, Ronan and Adam with matching whipped cream moustaches. Wearing blankets as capes, pretending to be superheroes. (Declan called them _losers_ and “did you even _watch_ ‘The Incredibles,’ Edna said _no capes_!”) Building a blanket fort. Lying on the grass by the cows.

The Barns is filled with framed photographs and Ronan doesn’t understand why Adam’s always staring at them.

The second time he saw himself in one he repeated his initial response. ‘That’s me,’ he’d stated and Ronan had looked at him weird again. ‘I know what your face looks like, loser,’ he’d replied. Adam had blushed and looked away from the photograph but all day he’d kept thinking _that’s me, that’s me, that’s me_.

There are albums as well. Filled with photos and Adam _loves_ to browse through them.

Ronan thinks it’s lame. And he’s sort of embarrassed by it because there are a _lot_ of naked baby pictures of him and other pictures where he’s doing something ridiculous.

‘I hate that picture,’ he says, holding his hand over it so Adam can’t see. ‘I look like a loser.’ He’s four years old, naked in a bathtub, pretending to be a shark, while his grandmother rubs soap on him.

‘Well,’ Adam says. ‘Since you _are_ one, I don’t think it matters very much.’ He bats Ronan’s hand away and takes another look at the picture. ‘Besides, you look cute.’

‘I’m not _cute_ ,’ Ronan says, blushing. ‘I’m the _night_. I am _darkness_. Fear me!’

‘You couldn’t be scary if you tried,’ Adam smiles at him, flicking to the next page. There’s a picture of Matthew and Ronan hugging their granddad and Adam smiles at it, feeling a sting of sadness. He wishes his parents had a bunch of photo albums filled with pictures of him doing silly things. He wishes he knew his grandparents.

Ronan thinks the photographs are embarrassing, but Adam would choose embarrassing photos any day.

He’s in a lot of the albums – and, yes, a lot of the pictures are embarrassing, but he feels so inexplicably happy about them anyway. He’s _there_. He exists. And he’s worth enough to be put in a frame.

 

* * *

 

When Adam comes over the next time, there’s a boy from Ronan’s class there. They’re working on a science project – Ronan’s dad’s there too, helping out.

They look to be having fun.

‘Do you want to play?’ Matthew asks, standing with a bouncy ball in his hands. He’s looking at Adam with huge eyes and he’s smiling, dimples appearing.

‘Yes,’ Adam says, smiling back at him. He glances over at Ronan and something stings inside him. He doesn’t know what it is, but he wishes he were that other boy.

Matthew throws the ball at the floor and it bounces towards Adam. He catches it between his hands and smiles at Matthew who’s giggling at him. He throws it back to him, and Matthew doesn’t catch it. It rolls past him and under the couch. ‘Oh,’ Matthew says, looking at Adam.

‘Here, let me,’ Adam says, dropping flat on his stomach on the floor and reaching his arm out under the couch. His fingertips graze it and he gets it out. Ronan glances at him, and then looks back to his classmate.

Adam stares at Ronan. He doesn’t know what it is he’s _feeling_.

He’d been so excited to go to the Barns, he always is, but now he’s just sad. Frustrated. Restless. He wants _Ronan_.

He continues passing the ball back and forth between Matthew and him, smiling at him whenever he manages to actually catch it. It lights up whenever it hits the floor, blinking red and green and blue. Matthew tells him it used to play a sound as well but it doesn’t anymore.

‘Why not?’ Adam asks, bouncing it back to him.

‘Ronan put it in the freezer,’ Matthew says, giggling at Adam. Adam rolls his eyes. Ronan is a massive loser.

But right now he wishes said massive loser was paying attention to him.

This _sucks_.

  
Ronan keeps looking over at Adam as well; stealing glances whenever he’s able. He’s laughing and playing with Matthew and it hits Ronan how happy he is that they like each other. It would suck if his two favourite persons didn’t get on well.

He wishes he was the one making Adam smile right now, though.

He looks back at his classmate.

This is even worse than when Adam isn’t there. Now he’s close, but he can’t speak to him or go outside and play or sit on his floor playing Super Mario on their Gameboys. Now he can just look at him and daydream about playing Super Mario on his Gameboy…

  
Adam goes home after a while.

He loves Matthew but he wants _Ronan_.

He bikes home so fast he almost crashes; so much energy, adrenaline, soaring through his body, ending in his leg, pedalling hard and fast.

He gets home and wants to throw his backpack on the floor but doesn’t because he knows his dad will get angry with him. _Insolent boy, no manners_.

His mom is in the kitchen, peeling potatoes. ‘Hi mom,’ he says, standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen. For some reason, he doesn’t want to sit down. It’s like his body is on fire and sitting down isn’t the solution. He’s restless. But there he is, in the kitchen. Greeting his mom as he knows he needs to. That’s what you do when you come home: you say hi to your family.

‘Hi Adam,’ his mom says, sounding surprised to see him. _Very_ surprised – as if she’s forgotten she has a son. ‘How was your day?’

‘It was okay,’ Adam says. His days are always okay. Even if they’re not okay. There’s no point in saying anything else. If he’s too excited – it was _great_ – it’s a mockery of people who didn’t have a good day, i.e. his father, always. If he’s honest and says it wasn’t that good, he’s ungrateful. _People have it worse than you_. And sometimes even when he’s being completely neutral – it was okay, it was fine, it was all right – his dad finds a reason to get angry. The way he was looking while saying it. (Adam never thinks he looks anything _special_ when saying it.) The way he said it. The way he was standing, or sitting, or _existing_. Adam’s existence is a constant bother, and Adam gets it. He does.

He’s in the way. Money’s sparse and Adam needs food, and clothes, and that damn _bike_. He’s an expense. He’s in the way. He’s an _inconvenience_. Sometimes he thinks his parents shouldn’t have had kids if they didn’t really want them – when he’s just an inconvenience.

He goes to his room and sits down with his schoolbooks. He starts on maths. Maybe that’ll distract him.

 

* * *

 

‘I wish we had horses,’ Matthew states. The Lynch family is sitting by the dinner table, all five of them.

‘Adam says horses sleep standing up,’ Ronan replies, stabbing his fork into a bowtie pasta.

‘That’s weird,’ Matthew adds, mouth full of Bolognese.

‘Finish chewing, dear,’ Aurora looks pointedly at him.

Matthew finishes chewing, takes a sip from his drink, and sticks his tongue out at his mom. ‘That’s weird,’ he repeats, looking at Ronan.

‘Adam says that it’s because they have straight backs that make it hard for them to get up quickly, and because they’re prey animals it’d be really sucky to be lying down and not be able to get up when someone who wanted to eat them came after them.’ Ronan takes another serving of pasta.

‘I wish we had a zebra,’ Declan says and Niall laughs out loud. ‘So do I,’ he answers. ‘That’d be cool, wouldn’t it?’

‘Do they sleep standing up as well?’ Matthew asks and Aurora sends him a sharp look, because once again his mouth is full of pasta.

‘Probably,’ Ronan shrugs. ‘Aren’t they a kind of horse?’

‘Imaging if zebras were coloured instead of black and white,’ Matthew blinks. ‘Ronan do you want to draw with me when we’re done eating?’

‘Yes,’ Ronan answers, already beginning to think of what colours to choose. Rainbow would be cool.

‘Y’all have to shower,’ Aurora states, looking between her sons.

‘No _way_ ,’ Ronan says at the same time as Matthew says _why,_ and Declan says he showered yesterday.

‘And you have to again today,’ Aurora says, looking at her husband. He’s smiling at her, raising his glass in a toast.

‘Can we draw afterwards then?’ Matthew asks, looking at his mom with hopeful eyes.

‘Of course, darling,’ she says. ‘It’s Saturday.’

‘Which means _candy_ ,’ Declan adds, looking victorious. ‘And a _movie_.’

‘Which movie do you want to watch?’ Niall asks.

‘Something _wicked_ ,’ Declan requests, ‘With robots. Or pirates. Or _space_!’

‘I want to watch Lion King,’ Matthew says. ‘Or Toy Story.’

‘We watched Toy Story _last time_ ,’ Declan sulks. ‘I want to watch Transformers.’

‘I don’t want to watch Transformers,’ Matthew replies.

‘But do you want to eat your dinner?’ Aurora asks, looking at his only half-finished plate. He looks at her, narrowing his eyes. Is this a test? ‘Is there dessert?’ he asks.

‘If you finish your dinner,’ she says, looking pointedly at him. Matthew digs in.

‘Adam has only watched, like, two movies in his life,’ Ronan says thoughtfully. ‘He’s never been to the cinema.’

Aurora looks Niall in the eyes.

‘I mean, maybe he’s watched more, I don’t know,’ Ronan adds. ‘Two sounds like really little…’

‘You could invite him to the cinema for his birthday,’ Aurora suggests. ‘If you want to.’

Ronan looks up at her with wide eyes, as if just remembering that there were people around and he wasn’t alone.

‘His birthday is July 3rd,’ Ronan says.

‘I want to go to the cinema too!’ Matthew announces, looking up from his plate.

‘We can go tomorrow,’ Niall says, smiling at his youngest son. ‘If you eat your dinner.’

Matthew Lynch has never finished his dinner so quickly.

‘Who wants to shower first?’ Aurora asks as she begins cleaning off the table.

The boys, who’d just been complaining about even having to shower, now bicker about who gets to do it first.

‘Matthew,’ Aurora commands. ‘Go shower. Then Ronan, Declan last.’

‘That’s _unfair_ ,’ Ronan and Declan object.

‘Life’s unfair, kids,’ Niall reminds them, beginning to fill a washing-up bowl with hot water.

‘I know,’ Ronan speculates, sitting down on a chair. He’s thinking of Adam.

 

* * *

 

‘What’s that on your arm?’ Ronan asks, reaching out his hand to touch. Adam flinches and makes it impossible for Ronan to reach.

‘Nothing,’ he objects. ‘Crashed on my bike.’

‘Huh,’ Ronan observes. ‘You should wear a helmet.’

‘Yeah…’ Adam says. ‘Guess I should.’

 

* * *

 

‘Goodnight,’ Aurora says, kissing Ronan’s forehead. ‘Sleep well, love.’

Ronan doesn’t try to escape her embrace. He only does that when people are looking. ‘Night mom,’ he says instead, hugging her back. He goes to his room.

There’s a notebook lying on the floor.

There is not supposed to be a notebook lying on the floor. He kneels down and picks it up. It’s a standard school one, black with a white box on the front. It says ADAM PARRISH on the first line inside the box. On the next one it says ENGLISH.

Ronan crawls into his bed and under his blanket. He opens to the first page. He doesn’t know if he’s allowed to read it. It’s for class, right? What kind of homework does Adam have? Maybe they have something really cool, and that’s why Adam’s such a nerd and likes school. Ronan always has lame homework, and he hates it.

He flicks through the pages, and then he gets to one that reads “MY FAVOURITE PERSON.”

Underneath that, the assignment is written in cursive. _Describe the most important person in your life_.

Ronan thinks that sounds interesting. He begins reading.

_The most important person in my life is my best friend. He is always kind and nice and his laugh could light up the whole world. He has cows – they are cute. I love them. I always stop by his house after school. His family is nice and they all hug me everyday even when they saw me the day before. I wish they were my family, although I think they kind of are. I hope so, at least. His name is Ronan, he has blue-green eyes and curly black hair and I don't know why, but his lips are always dry. I was taller than him last year, but I'm not anymore. He's the nicest boy in the entire world; he always makes me laugh when I'm sad._

He stops reading. “His name is Ronan.” The words echo through his head. ‘Is this a description of me?’ he thinks. ‘Of _me_ —? Am I—am I the most important person in Adam’s life?’

_His favourite thing is a cinnamon roll and we once helped his mother bake some and they were really good. He always calls me a “loser,” but he’s always smiling so I don’t think he means it. He’s like Snow White, animals love him. I think he would make a very good zookeeper. There are some pictures of him and me together on the walls in his home and I still can’t believe that. I don’t know how to describe him because he’s too incredible to put into words. It’s like he’s made of dreams and stars. He’s the most important person in my life._

Adam thinks it’s like he’s made of _dreams_ and _stars_. Ronan is _important_ to Adam. He’s his _best friend_. Ronan wants to scream. He keeps staring at the page, reads it over and over and over again. He almost tears up.

He thinks, of course, that Adam is the most important person in his life as well. But maybe in a different way. Adam never really talks about his family. He doesn’t have any siblings; just his mom and dad.

Ronan loves his family. His mom, his dad, his god-awful annoying brothers. Adam never talks about his family in that way.

He must love them, though. Doesn’t everyone love their family?

“I wish they were my family, although I think they kind of are. I hope so.” _I hope so._ The words echo in Ronan’s head. _I wish they were my family_.

God, he wants to cry. _He’s too incredible to put into words_. Adam never has trouble putting anything into words. Adam is smart, well read, eloquent (coincidentally, a word Ronan’s learned from Adam). And he’s having troubles describing _Ronan_.

Ronan can’t fall asleep. He keeps thinking about what he’s read. _He’s the most important person in my life._

  
He gives it back the following afternoon when Adam comes around.

‘You forgot this yesterday,’ Ronan says, holding out the notebook for Adam to take.

Adam narrows his eyes for a second where he registers what Ronan’s holding. ‘Oh,’ he says. ‘Sorry.’ He picks it up and shoves it quickly down his bag.

He’s focusing all his attention on the notebook and the zipper of his bag. Has Ronan read in it? His mind is instantly flying to that assignment they have to do about their favourite person.

It’d be awful if Ronan has read in it.

He probably hasn’t. He tries to be rational, logical about it: Ronan doesn’t like school. This is Adam’s notebook for English class. Why would Ronan read in it?

But what if he _has_? What if he’s—oh God, he can’t even finish the thought. If Ronan has read in it he’ll realise that Adam doesn’t have anyone at home—he’ll realise everything. Right? Most of his classmates had written about their mom or dad or siblings or all three. Some had simply written for the prompt _family_.

Adam doesn’t regret what he’d written. He doesn’t—it’s the truth. Ronan is his favourite person. The most important person in his life.

He remember that day where his bike had broken and he’d been sitting on the ground, panicking about how he was going to get home and what was going to happen, and how this boy with big, honest eyes and no missing teeth had walked over to him and asked if he needed help. From then on, it’d been the snowball effect: he’d only grown closer and closer to Ronan – his first _friend_. His best friend.

And now he might’ve blown all that—if Ronan’s read in his notebook. If he’s read that stupid assignment and now he thinks he’s a _loser_ and an _idiot_ and _he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore_.

The notebook’s in his backpack and he can’t keep fuzzing with it so he turns around and looks back at Ronan. He’s smiling at him, all wide. Everything can’t be ruined then, right? He wouldn’t be smiling like this if he hated him, right?

‘Do you want to play Super Mario?’ he says and he looks hopeful.

‘Yeah,’ Adam breathes out, relieved. Ronan hasn’t read anything. Everything is OK. ‘Let’s do that.’

 

* * *

 

Adam doesn’t show up for a week, and Ronan is worried _sick_.

He was there Monday, after school, as always. They went to the woods, bundled up in jackets and mittens, which they ripped off the second they arrived because of the warmth.

Adam’s hair had stuck out everywhere and Ronan had told him he looked like an alien even thought he looked more like some kind of angel, the light illuminating his hair like a halo.

He didn’t come over Tuesday, which—which wasn’t odd or extraordinary because he wasn’t at the Barns _every_ day, but it _was_ odd that he also didn’t show up Wednesday, or Thursday, or even Friday.

Ronan sat outside in the yard, eyes on the road, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, wondering and worrying where on earth Adam was every afternoon. He didn’t come in until Aurora went to call for him that dinner was ready.

Maybe he didn’t want to be friends anymore? Maybe Ronan _wasn’t_ the most important person—maybe he wasn’t even important at _all_.

Or maybe something had happened. Maybe he’s been—in some kind of accident, maybe he is in the hospital, maybe he’s _dead_.

It’s Saturday and Ronan has so far spent the day in his room, curled under his blanket. His Gameboy is lying on the floor mocking him; every time he looks at it he thinks of Adam and he’s worried all over again. _Where is he?_

Matthew pads in at one point and simply looks at Ronan, then crawls into his bed and lies down beside him. He doesn’t say anything; just curls his small hand inside Ronan’s and smiles softly at him.

Ronan smiles back at him, faint and small, and breathes out. ‘I’m scared,’ he says and it sounds vulnerable and terrifying.

‘He’s okay,’ Matthew says. ‘He’ll be back.’

‘Thank you,’ Ronan whispers back. ‘I hope so.’

Matthew squeezes his hand softly and smiles at him. He wraps his small limbs around him and they end up falling asleep curled together.

  
He’s back Monday afternoon. He looks exhausted, more than usually.

Ronan runs to him as soon as he sees him and wraps his arms around him tightly. All his worries disappear right then, there’s just _relief_ – he’s okay. He’s all right, he’s here, and he’s safe.

‘Adam,’ he breathes out, holding him by the shoulders and looking at him. ‘I missed you.’

Adam looks at him; his eyes are hollow and deep and empty. Like he’s seen Hell. Maybe he has. Life isn’t fair, Ronan thinks.

‘I missed you too,’ Adam says and his voice comes out as—odd. Croaky. Different. ‘How are you?’ He asks, like he’d do any other day, as if nothing’s up. As if he hasn’t been practically MIA for a week. Ronan stares at him.

All the worry that just disappeared comes back but now in the form of frustration, anger. ‘I’ve been _worried_ ,’ he says. ‘Where have you _been_?’

‘Nowhere,’ Adam says. ‘Home. School. Home again.’

‘I missed you,’ Ronan repeats, trying to process that information. Adam’s just been— _home?_ Why didn’t he call? Or come over? Or do anything? Maybe he just didn’t want to play—maybe he just didn’t—?

‘I’m so glad to see you, loser,’ he says and he can’t stop smiling. He pulls Adam into another hug.

Adam buries his head in Ronan’s shoulder and lets Ronan wrap his arms tightly around him. He’s still not— _good_ with physical contact. Every time Ronan moves a bit too quickly he flinches, and he’s never certain if it’s going to hurt or not – but he knows, deep down he knows, Ronan wouldn’t ever hurt him.

And it’s nice. _God_ , it’s _nice_ to have someone’s arms around your body; all tight embrace, safety, like there are only you two in the whole world and nothing can hurt you. So he buries into it and leans his head on his shoulders and he tries not to cry.

He’s missed Ronan – oh God, oh God, oh _God_ , he’s missed him so _much_. This week has been so— _long_.

It’s been the longest week of his life so far, his dad has been—his dad has been— _awful_.

First thing wrong was how late Adam came home Monday; it wasn’t any later than he’d been coming home for the last year but that day it set Robert Parrish off like never before.

Falling asleep that night was near impossible, his entire body aching, limbs sore and bruised and raw; mom helping clean him up on the kitchen floor – once, years ago, he’d made the mistake of going to the bathroom and Adam’s dad had pounded on it for ages ( _you can’t fucking hide from me!_ ) and finally the thin door had yielded and he’d barged in and an hour later his mom had had to clean him up all over again. _Really, sweetie, you shouldn’t have gone in there…_ He hadn’t slept that night either.

He’d biked straight home after school the next day, as to not upset his dad further. Biking straight home was about the _last_ thing on Earth he wanted to do – he didn’t want to go home, he didn’t want to spend time around his dad, every second there was like being in a warzone; dangerous, unpredictable, capricious…

Him coming home early hadn’t pleased his dad much, though. Why was he home so early? Why was he _there_ – _get out of my sight!_

Wednesday, he’d been too terrified of not coming straight home as he had _coming_ straight home. The constant impossible dilemma between two opposites. He couldn’t come straight home, but he also couldn’t _not_ come straight home.

So he ended up biking straight home and spending the afternoon outside. He did his homework there, books splayed out on the uneven ground, his writing getting a little jagged because he didn’t have a smooth surface.

Another reason he’d biked straight home was because of the bruises. He didn’t want Ronan to see.

Second thing wrong was how his hair looked; too long, _girly_.

Third thing wrong was his posture. The way he talked (back). The way he looked at him. His lack of respect. His lack of manners. His lack of anything _good_ – how he was the worst fucking thing that’d ever taken up space and time in the universe. The way he breathed. The way he _existed_.

Adam just wanted to disappear.

And now it’s Monday again and the bruises are almost gone and Ronan’s arms are wrapped around him and he wants to melt into the touch. He fights back tears, nothing would be worse than starting crying. _Don’t start crying_.

His body aches from the loss when Ronan pulls away, his body so starved of touch he wishes this hug would never end. Wishes Ronan would never stop touching him.

He takes his hand and pulls him inside with him.

 

* * *

 

‘Adam,’ Ronan declares formally, looking him in the eye. ‘Your birthday is next week.’

Adam narrows his eyes in confusion. ‘Yes…’ he replies slowly, making the underlying “what do you mean?” clear.

‘And as your present, I’m taking you to the movies,’ Ronan says bright-eyed, huge smile plastered on his face. ‘I mean, if you want to go with me—?’ he hurriedly adds, suddenly self-conscious and scared. ‘There’s this new movie coming and I really want to see it and I think it would be cool if you wanted to come too and I’ve talked with mom about it and she said it was a good idea and–’ he rambles on.

Adam is gaping at him, matching wide eyes. ‘That would be,’ he says, ‘so _cool_.’

‘I know right?’ Ronan grins at him. ‘And we’ll get the biggest popcorn and soda and mom said we could maybe even go for ice cream afterwards!’

‘Wow,’ Adam somehow gets out round the lump in his throat. He can feel his heart fighting to jump out his chest. ‘I’m–’ he starts, but he doesn’t really know what he is. Exhilarated? Overwhelmed? Terrified? All three?

He has never been to the movies before, and this feels like too much kindness for his small body to handle. He has never been treated with care, gently; nobody has ever looked excitedly at him before exclaiming they’ve got a _birthday present_ for him.

His birthday has never been celebrated. His birth has never been something to celebrate – why would it be?

‘That’d be so–’ he says and pauses once again. He doesn’t know how to put into words all the things he wants to communicate. He doesn’t know how to tell Ronan ‘he’s the first person who’s ever treated him kindly’ without somehow ruining their friendship.

‘ _Cool_ , right?’ Ronan says, completely unaware of what’s going on in Adam’s mind. ‘So cool!’

‘Yes,’ Adam agrees. ‘Cool.’ He grins back at Ronan and he takes his hand and drags him after him inside. ‘Mom,’ he yells when they enter the house, running into the living room where Aurora’s sitting. Mom! He said yes! We can go to the movies!’ He’s positively beaming as his glance shifts from Aurora to Adam to Aurora again.

‘Lovely,’ Aurora smiles, ‘Hi, Adam!’

‘Hi ma’am,’ Adam greets her. ‘I’d love to go to the movies with Ronan.’ He’s beaming as well, squeezing Ronan’s hand and looking over at him.

‘It’s going to be so _cool_ ,’ Ronan says again, looking back at his mom. ‘Right?’

‘Of course, love,’ Aurora says, smiling at him. ‘It’s going to be so cool.’

  
They go to the movies.

Adam bikes to the Barns where Ronan greets him with what Adam thinks is the biggest smile he’s ever seen.

Ronan woke up early, too excited to sleep. They were going to the _movies_.

‘Happy birthday,’ he exclaims when Adam gets there. ‘You’re still a loser.’

‘I’m older than you,’ Adam states. ‘I’m cooler than you. I’m faster than you. If I’m a loser, then what does that make you?’

‘A winner,’ Ronan grins at him, flashing his teeth. ‘I can’t wait for this.’

‘Me neither,’ Adam says, all but bouncing at his feet.

They all get into the car; Niall drives, Aurora’s in the passenger seat, and the kids sit squeezed together in the back.

When they get to the theatre they all stumble out and almost fall over because they’re so excited. Ronan jumps up and down and can’t stop grinning at Adam.

They get popcorn and soda – biggest sizes, as promised. Adam walks around wide-eyed, staring at everything: the popcorn machines, the candy assortment, the walls plastered with posters.

‘Dec and I went to see that one,’ Ronan says, pointing at a poster featuring some robots. ‘It was _sick_.’

‘It was _wicked_ ,’ Declan joins in.

Ronan and Adam keep smiling at each other. ‘Are you excited?’ Ronan asks and Adam nods. ‘Are you?’

‘ _Yes_ ,’ Ronan breathes out as if Adam’s stupid. ‘Obviously.’

The light turns on and a man in a black uniform appears and opens the door. ‘Come on then,’ Niall says, ushering them forward, which wouldn’t have been necessary as Ronan is already tugging at Adam’s wrist.

Aurora hands the tickets to the man and they’re allowed into the showing room. They find their seats and sit down.

Ronan and Matthew are both squirming in their seats with excitement. They both look over at Adam with large eyes and Adam gapes back at them.

Ronan grabs a fistful of popcorn and shoves it into his mouth. Adam laughs at him; Declan rolls his eyes.

The lights slowly fade out, the screen widens, and advertisements and movie trailers start rolling.

Then, the Disney castle with the fireworks appear and Adam is _gaping_ – this is happening, he’s watching a _movie_ , in the _cinema_. He can’t tear his eyes away from the screen; he has to keep looking or maybe he’ll wake up, maybe it’s all a dream.

In capital letters the screen reads MEET THE ROBINSONS and Adam looks over at Ronan just to find he’s already looking at him. They smile at each other and turn their eyes back at the screen.

The movie starts; sepia setting and rain. As the woman leaves her crying baby in the rain, Adam’s smile slowly dissipates. He breathes in slowly, exhales. _Don’t ruin this, don’t ruin this, don’t ruin this._ He thinks: _Ronan is giving this to you, don’t ruin it_. He calms down, keeps his eyes on the screen.

When Goob goes to blow the cornet in Lewis’ face to get his attention, but accidentally ends up blowing it in his own instead, Adam starts laughing. Ronan looks over at him, he stares and stares and stares, he can’t believe Adam’s laughing like this, he’s so proud of his present. He’s so happy Adam wanted to go to the movies with him.

‘I have no future. No one wants me. My own mother didn't want me,’ Lewis says on screen and Adam feels like his chest has been ripped open; _don’t ruin this, don’t ruin this, don’t ruin this._

Then Lewis starts his inventing-adventure and he spends ages in the library, reads countless of books, goes to science fairs, makes annotations, is even an observant in an open brain surgery, and Ronan turns to Adam, ‘nerd,’ he declares, ‘just like you.’ Adam rolls his eyes at him.

‘He was up all night working on his stupid project,’ Goob says. ‘But that’s what happens when you get a science geek for your roommate.’ Ronan looks over at Adam again. ‘It’s _you_.’

When the girl at the science fair brings her fire ant farm, Adam absentmindedly leans over and whispers fire ant trivia in Ronan’s ear. ‘Did you know a fire ant queen can have up to a thousand babies in a month?’

‘Wow,’ Ronan whispers back. ‘Imagine having a thousand babies. You’d never sleep.’

Adam doesn’t even roll his eyes at him; he’s already looking back at the screen.

Wilbur pulls Lewis with him under a table to ask if he’s seen the bowler hat guy. He uses cop slang, “we’ll find the perp. And by perp I mean–” Lewis rolls his eyes and says he knows what perp means. Ronan leans over and tells Adam, ‘I don’t know what that means,’ and Adam rolls his eyes like Lewis. ‘Perpetrator. The person who commits the crime.’

Ronan stares at Adam in awe. How is he so smart? Nerd.

‘That’s a robot,’ Adam says. ‘In their garage! They have a robot! Ronan, do you see? That’s a robot!’ He’s looking deliriously between the screen and Ronan, jumping in his seat. Ronan just laughs and smiles at him.

‘Wow, Ronan,’ Adam says a couple of minutes later. ‘Wilbur sculpts models of his plans, he’s such a loser, just like you!’ And a little later: ‘Ronan, you’re basically Wilbur, always getting into trouble!’

It’s Ronan’s turn to roll his eyes.

On screen, Lewis meets the family. Adam is staring slack-jawed like Lewis as he sees all these _cool_ people: aunt Billie with her real-sized toy train; Gaston getting inside his canon, making it blow, and racing the train; uncle Art who’s both a pizza delivery guy and a superhero; Franny who teaches music to frogs. At dinner they’re all joking and sitting around happy and amazing and Adam keeps _gaping_.

For dessert the robot gives everyone two pieces of bread, but the invention to put peanut butter and jelly on them is broken. Wilbur says Lewis is an inventor and they’re all awed and tell him to try to fix it. Lewis doesn’t really want to but Franny talks him into it in a soft voice.

He goes to fix it but he fails. He starts apologising but everyone is screaming about how he _failed_ and it was _awesome!_ Adam is sitting in the cinema with wide eyes because they’re like the Lynches. They always forgive his slip-ups and his mistakes, they’re always happy and laughing and telling jokes, they’re always a _family_.

Fanny raises her glass, ‘I toast to Lewis and his brilliant failure. May it help you reach success in the future.’ Adam chokes because she reminds him of Ronan’s mom.

Lewis is sitting mind blown because _what just happened_ and he says, ‘you’re so nice. If I had a family I’d want them to be just like you.’ Ronan remembers the notebook and how Adam had written something like that and his heart breaks. Aurora looks at Adam and sees there are tears streaming down his cheeks and he’s wiping at them furiously. Her heart breaks as well; she understands he feels this way without him telling her.

Adam’s heart is shattered. That’s him, Lewis is him and the Robinsons are the Lynches and they’re so good to him even when he doesn’t deserve it, which he rarely does. Does he ever deserve it?

Lewis accidentally calls Franny mom and Adam remembers how he almost did that once and very pointedly _doesn’t_ look at Aurora. Aurora notices and thinks of the incident as well, her heart shattering.

‘Nothing is set in stone. You’ve got to make the right choices and keep moving forward,’ he says on screen and Lewis lets go of his past and starts to make his future happen. He’s going to be happy. Adam is gaping at the screen, he identifies so _much_ , he wants to have that family, he wants to be happy and successful and move forward and he _will_. Right there, he promises that he _will_. He’ll get out of the trailer park, he’ll chase a better future, he’ll be happy and it’ll be good and he has the Lynches and he’ll love them and he’ll be with Ronan and they’ll be happy and successful together.

The movie ends. The screen goes black. A quote appears. _Around here, however, we don’t look backwards for very long. We keep moving forward, opening up new doors, and doing new things, because we’re curious… and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths. — Walt Disney._

It fades out of screen and only _keep moving forward_ remains and Adam is still crying. He’s inspired, he felt it all so deeply, he’s so, so happy, he wants to go out and live his life and let go of his past and _keep moving forward_. He loved the film. He loved it so much he almost physically cannot handle it. It feels like his body is combusting. He sits there for a couple of minutes while the credits roll with his head buried in his hands to let it all sink in. He can’t believe everything he just saw and learned and decided and he’s still crying but he’s not even aware. Silent tears he doesn’t notice.

Ronan shakes his shoulder and Adam stands up and wraps his arms around him. They hug so tight and everything is _good_.

Aurora comes over and kneels down next to Adam. Without a word she pulls him close to her chest and hugs him. Adam hugs her back and cries even harder. He’s never felt this— _worthy. Loved._

When she lets go of him she wipes her own cheeks and Adam wipes his as Niall ruffles his hair. Declan fist-bumps him and Matthew hugs him from behind.

They’re the last ones to leave the room. Aurora takes one of Adam’s hands and Ronan takes the other.

They get ice cream cones on the way home.

 

* * *

 

December comes around and with it comes snow. Ronan is exhilarated, which spills over into Adam, who’d otherwise always considered snow to be annoying. Bothering. It’s hard to bike through.

Adam can’t very well spend Christmas at the Barns – even though his family does absolutely nothing, his parents would simply be awful.

Instead, he comes over Christmas Eve. He goes ice-skating on the pond with Ronan and his brothers.

It’s his first time ice-skating and he’s not spectacularly good at it. Ronan is. He shows off, doing pirouettes and stunts and Adam stares at him in awe.

Declan is great as well – they’ve both gone ice-skating multiple times every year their whole lives.

Matthew is more on Adam’s level. He holds Ronan’s left hand and Adam holds his right and they skate around the pond slowly, careful not to fall.

They fall anyway. Adam’s head on Ronan’s stomach and Matthew on top of him, giggling.

‘You’re awful at this, Adam,’ Ronan gets out while laughing. ‘Loser.’

They stumble up again, Adam on shaking legs grasping Ronan’s hand tight to not fall again.

They’re all bundled up in coats and hats, home-knitted scarves and red cheeks. Matthew claps his mitten-clad hands together and grins. He starts singing one of his favourite carols and Ronan joins in. They both have sweet voices and Adam loves the sound of it. He’s never really heard carols before…

When they go back inside, Aurora’s made hot chocolate and there are Christmas cookies and a brown sack lying on the table.

‘Mom, what’s that?’ Ronan asks, eyeing it suspiciously, looking at his mom.

‘What’s what, love?’ Aurora asks, not looking away from the bowl she’s stirring in.

‘That thing on the table!’ He clarifies. Aurora looks over at him and her eyes widen in surprise when she sees what’s on the table. ‘I don’t know,’ she says. ‘Where’d it come from?’

‘How would _I_ know?’ Ronan says, rushing forward to figure out what it is. Declan’s toying with it as well and they get it opened and out fall four gorgeously wrapped presents.

They all look at Aurora. ‘Mom…’ Declan says.

‘Yes, honey,’ she replies. ‘What’s in it?’

‘Gifts!’ Matthew says, clapping his hands. He’s smiling wide, showing his dimples and missing teeth.

‘Gifts?’ Aurora says in surprise. ‘From who?’

There’s a tag on all the presents and Ronan picks one up. ‘To: Matthew,’ he reads. ‘From: San Nicolás. FROM SAN NICOLÁS!’ he repeats in a loud voice. He looks at his mom, then at Adam.

Declan picks up a present and reads the tag, then hands it to Ronan.

The last two presents are to Declan and Adam and Adam’s mouth drops open as he hears his name read. To _him_. From _Santa_.

‘How’d he know–’ he stammers. ‘How’d he know I was _here_?’

‘Let’s hope you’ve all been nice then,’ Aurora says. ‘That it isn’t coal inside.’

Adam looks at Ronan and starts laughing. ‘You’re probably getting coal, loser.’

Ronan laughs back at him. ‘Yeah, what about _you_ , nerd lord? You’re probably–’ he suddenly stops and his mouth drops a little more open. ‘You’re probably not getting coal because you’re always nice.’ He gets out all hurriedly, hoping Adam doesn’t hear it.

Adam hears it. ‘You’re always nice too,’ he echoes solemnly, smiling at Ronan. Ronan blushes at him and turns his attention to the present at hand, ripping at the paper.

‘Oh my God,’ Ronan exclaims, holding up what was inside so Adam can see. ‘Meet the Robinsons _video game_!’

‘Oh my _God_ ,’ Adam repeats, staring at what Ronan’s holding. ‘You must’ve been _really_ super nice all year!’

By then, Matthew has ripped the paper off his present as well and he squeals when he sees a 5kg Nutella jar. ‘Mom, mom, mom, mom,’ he says, grinning wide at Aurora. She laughs at him, ‘what have you got, love?’

‘ _Nutella_ ,’ he grins proudly, drumming on the lid.

‘How lucky you are,’ she marvels and Matthew just nods solemnly.

Declan gets a radio controlled robot and he screams and instantly runs into his room to get batteries. ‘ _Sick_ ,’ he says.

Adam unwraps his present carefully, still awed by the fact there was a present for him. Santa knows he was _here_. Santa wanted to _find him_ and _give him something_.

Inside are the two first Harry Potter books and he runs his hands slowly over the smooth hardcover. He turns it around and reads what it says on the backside. He’s focusing all his attention on the books and doesn’t notice Aurora and Ronan staring at him.

He forces the tears to disappear.

He doesn’t know how to react so he just keeps stroking the books, looking at them with wide eyes. He looks up at Ronan and gives him a faint smile. ‘I got two books,’ he whispers and Ronan smiles at him.

‘Even San Nicolás knows you’re a nerd.’

Adam’s face breaks into a large smile and he grins at Ronan. ‘Look who got a _video game_.’

‘Isn’t it _cool_?’ Ronan asks. ‘Want to play after we’ve had hot chocolate?’

‘Yes!’ Adam answers, stars in his eyes.

They all sit down at the table, and drink hot chocolate, and eat Christmas cookies. Niall grabs Aurora by the wrist and drags her under the mistletoe and kisses her. Matthew loudly screams “ew” and covers his eyes with both hands.

Ronan says that they’re gross, but his cheeks are turning red, because he _might_ be wondering what it’d be like if Adam kissed him under it.

Adam might be thinking about the same.

‘Do you want to play?’ Ronan suggests, holding up the game. Adam nods at him, and smiles.


	3. Ten years old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heads up, content warning for referenced child abuse. it's not explicit but it's talked about.

‘My name means _little seal_ ,’ Ronan complains as soon as Adam enters the kitchen, where he’s sitting with his brothers. ‘My name means little _seal_ ,’ he repeats, staring horrified at Adam. Adam’s face breaks out in a smile and he sits down on one of the eight chairs.

‘What’s going on?’ he asks, looking at Declan and then Matthew.

‘Dec looked up our name meaning,’ Matthew explains. ‘I’m a gift of God.’

‘That’s right,’ Aurora smiles. ‘You are.’ Matthew beams at her, then at Adam.

‘All the sites say the meaning of Declan is unknown,’ Declan adds. ‘But it might mean “man of prayer.”’

‘I’m _little seal_ ,’ Ronan states again. ‘That’s so— _loserly_. Why can’t I be “powerful ruler” or “strong warrior” or something?’

Adam starts laughing and Ronan shoots him a look. ‘Why am I this loser lump? It doesn’t even have _legs._ ’

‘Maybe that’s why you’re so slow,’ Adam laughs. ‘Little _seal_.’

‘Shut up,’ Ronan retorts. ‘Declan what does Adam’s name mean?’

Declan looks it up on the laptop. ‘Means “man” or “man of Earth,”’ he reads. ‘Nice.’

‘I hate this,’ Ronan decides. ‘Why does he get to be something _cool_ and I get to be something _loserly_?’

‘Makes you think, doesn’t it?’ Adam smirks.

‘Shut up,’ Ronan repeats.

‘Whatever you say, little seal.’

‘I’m going to _destroy_ you,’ Ronan threatens, and he looks less terrifying than he’d like, thanks to his blushing cheeks and curly hair.

‘I’d like to see you try,’ Adam continues. ‘You don’t even have _legs_.’

Aurora laughs loud and clear, and Ronan glares at Adam, then his mom, and then his brothers who are smiling as well.

‘Go dtachta an diabhail thu,’ he swears.

‘ _Language_ ,’ Aurora scolds, ‘little seal.’

Ronan groans. ‘I hate every single one of you.’

‘Do tiny seals even have the capacity to hate anyone?’ Declan contemplates, through laughter. ‘Aren’t they just, like, existing. Chilling. Eating.’

Ronan groans again. ‘Go dtachta an diabhail thu,’ he repeats in a whisper, looking defiantly at his mom.

 

* * *

 

Wednesday, Adam comes over to the Barns after school.

‘Hi love,’ Aurora greets him in the door, letting him in. Ronan is sitting at the kitchen table with his schoolbooks.

‘You know what I hate?’ Ronan asks before saying “hi”, or anything else along those lines. He answers his own question before Adam gets a chance to. ‘School.’

‘What’re you doing?’ Adam inquires, sitting down beside him.

‘ _Math_ ,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes. He slams the pencil down on the table. ‘I want to die.’

‘You’re being dramatic,’ Adam states, rolling his eyes. ‘I’d miss you if you died.’

‘Thanks,’ Ronan grins. ‘That’s sweet. I hope you give a speech at my funeral.’

‘Shut up,’ Adam rolls his eyes, leaning over so he can see Ronan’s schoolbooks. ‘What are you working on?’

‘Multiplication,’ he sighs, sitting back in his chair. ‘More like multipli _no_.’

‘That’s the worst joke I’ve ever heard,’ Adam states, picking up a pen. ‘Okay, see here.’ He starts explaining, pointing, writing, and Ronan stares down at Adam’s fingers around the pen, nodding about how “yeah, I get it” even though he can’t _concentrate_ and not for the normal reasons, this is something—he doesn’t really know what it is, but it’s not like what usually prevents him from focusing on homework.

They get it done and Ronan lets out a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you,’ he says. ‘That was the worst hour of my life so far, that was legitimate _torture_ \- you know what I think Hell is like? It’s just endless mathematics. There’s no end, there’s just math for all of eternity.’

‘Shut _up_ ,’ Adam replies, trying not to laugh. ‘You’re too _much_.’

‘I’m amazing and wonderful and incredible and smart and really good-looking and you love me and you want to have my babies, I know.’

Adam splutters and his eyes widen. ‘You’re a loser,’ he states again.

‘But I’m hot so who’s the real winner?’

‘Well,’ Adam asks. ‘Who _is_ the real winner?’

Ronan scrunches his eyebrows in confusion, trying to figure this out. ‘I don’t know?’ he decides. ‘You?’

‘Shut up,’ Adam repeats, blushing and looking away.

‘Anyway,’ Ronan sidetracks, sincere all of a sudden. ‘I was going to ask you something.’

‘Yes, I’ll give a nice speech at your funeral,’ Adam reassures. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got you.’

‘Shut up,’ Ronan echoes. ‘I’m serious.’ He takes a deep breath and he looks— _shy?_

‘Do you want to come to mass with us on Sunday, for St. Patricks?’ he asks hastily, fighting the urge to look down.

‘To church?’ Adam asks. He knows Ronan is Catholic and goes to mass almost every Sunday but it’s not something they’ve ever really talked about. It just _is_. Like everything else about Ronan, it just _is_.

‘Yes,’ he answers hesitantly, suddenly unsure if he’s overstepping any boundaries, or if this is going to change things. ‘I’d like to.’ He smiles softly.

Ronan’s face lights up as well. ‘Nice,’ he responds. ‘Do you have any green clothes?’

‘Eh,’ Adam stalls. ‘I don’t know? I don’t think so.’

‘That’s all right,’ Ronan replies. ‘I have a sweatshirt you can borrow.’

‘Thank you,’ Adam smiles.

‘Then after mass we’ll celebrate and there’ll be lots of food and it’ll be really cool.’

‘It sounds exciting,’ Adam keeps smiling at him.

‘Mass is at noon,’ Ronan adds.

‘I’ll be here,’ Adam replies, nodding once. They’re still smiling at each other.

‘Now, do you want to do more math, or?’

Ronan groans. ‘Why would you bring up _math_? I’m finally _free,_ no more homework.’

Adam flashes a grin at him and throws his head back in laughter. ‘What do you want to do then?’

‘Cows?’ Ronan suggests.

‘Cows,’ Adam says.

  
Adam shows up Sunday, wearing worn jeans and a black t-shirt. Ronan’s ready with the sweater he promised Adam could borrow.

They’re all wearing green; Aurora’s in a summer dress with circles, Niall in a kitschy green suit, Declan in a green jumper and black pants, Matthew in a green t-shirt reading “I’m feckin’ Irish” and a green hat, and Ronan in a green button-up. They’re also all wearing huge smiles.

‘Adam,’ Aurora smiles, hugging him. ‘How are you, love?’

‘Fine, thank you,’ he answers. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m great,’ she laughs, turning around and kissing Niall.

‘Are you ready for church?’ Niall asks, smiling.

‘I am,’ he says. ‘I’ve never been before.’

‘You haven’t?’ Niall asks. ‘Well, I hope you like it!’

‘Adam!’ Ronan calls, running over to him. He hands him the sweater.

‘Thank you,’ Adam beams at him and pulls it on. It’s a size too large and he’s drowning in it. He rolls the sleeves up over his elbows.

‘Perfect,’ Ronan breathes out. ‘You look good.’

‘So do you,’ Adam says, eyeing Ronan up. It’s true. Button-ups suit him.

Ronan definitely does not blush at the compliment.

‘You ready?’ he asks instead, changing the topic. Adam nods enthusiastically. ‘Yeah, I’m excited,’ he says. ‘First time.’

‘Seriously?’ Ronan asks. That’s— _wild_. He grew up with going to church, it’s natural, it’s how things are. He knows a lot of people don’t but it’s still—different.

‘Yes,’ Adam answers.

‘Cool,’ Ronan replies.

‘Loser.’

‘That’s you.’

They smile at each other in anticipation.

  
Adam sits between Ronan and Matthew in church. They both know all the hymns and sing loud and clear; Ronan has a great voice and Adam keeps looking over at him. He’s smiling. He looks at home here.

‘What’d you think then?’ Niall asks when they exit the church.

‘It was nice,’ Adam says solemnly. ‘I liked the hymns.’

‘That’s my favourite part,’ Matthew pipes in. ‘I’m going to join the choir.’

‘Are you now?’ Aurora asks, looking surprised. Matthew’s never talked about this before.

‘Yes,’ he states. ‘I just decided.’

‘That sounds lovely,’ Aurora replies, taking her husband’s hand and smiling up at him.

Ronan takes Adam’s hand, too shy to look at him while doing it. Adam doesn’t pull away and Ronan looks over at him and smiles.

Their hands are clasped the entire walk home.

  
When they get to the Barns, Matthew runs into his room. Aurora and Niall look at each other with huge smiles.

Ten minutes later he reappears, but in different clothing. Gone are the t-shirt and the jeans and he’s now dressed as a leprechaun, complete with fake beard and all. Large, fake, orange beard.

He’s grinning at them all, jumping up and down. ‘I’m a leprechaun,’ he explains, in case they couldn’t tell. ‘Happy St. Patrick’s day.’

‘Happy St. Patrick’s day, love,’ Aurora smiles, running to hug him. Matthew wraps his arms around his mom and laughs into her hair.

‘I love you,’ Aurora says, pulling away from the hug and just smiling at her son. Then she gets up and goes to hug her other kids.

Declan tries to shy away, and just stands stiff as a board when she wraps her arms around her.

Ronan doesn’t fight it, just hugs her back and whispers _I love you too_ when she tells him she does.

Adam is stiff at first, then relaxes into the touch, and hugs her back as tight as he can. _Thank you_ , he whispers without specifying exactly what he’s thankful for, because it sounds too much like _everything_.

‘Happy St. Patrick’s,’ Niall congratulates in his loud, booming voice. ‘Let’s get food on the table.’

They all help each other with setting the table, preparing the last dishes, getting drinks, and then they sit down by the table.

There are beers and Adam’s kind of shaky because he’s scared bad things will happen. Alcohol has always been synonymous with destruction in his family.

The food is delicious and they all get multiple servings. ‘Ronan,’ Adam observes. ‘Your mom is still the best cook I know.’

‘I _know_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘She and grandma are the best.’

‘Excuse me, kid,’ Niall objects. ‘Where am I on that list?’

‘Dad,’ Matthew, Dec, and Ronan all put in simultaneously. ‘You only know how to cook pasta. And once you even burned that.’

‘I did _not_ ,’ Niall says. ‘That is a lie and I will not stand for it.’

‘You also know how to order pizza,’ Matthew adds. ‘But that doesn’t count. And you did burn the pasta.’

‘I still can’t believe that,’ Aurora blinks, shaking her head slowly. ‘How’s it possible to burn _pasta_?’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ Niall laughs. ‘I’ve never done it.’

‘ _Dad_ ,’ Ronan argues, fighting the laugh. ‘You _have_.’

Niall winks at Adam and lifts his beer to his mouth. Adam watches in fascination how he swallows, puts the bottle back down, and goes back to joking with his children. _If only_.

‘So,’ Niall asks. ‘What’s a leprechaun’s favourite kind of music?’

Matthew’s face scrunches up in concentration. Declan is rolling his eyes.

‘I don’t know,’ Matthew says, looking up at his dad with wide eyes. ‘I like the hymns in church.’

‘Shamrock’n’roll,’ Niall answers, and he laughs loud and roaring and heartily. It infects Adam and he starts laughing too. He puts down his fork.

Aurora is rolling her eyes fondly; she’s no doubt heard the joke a million times.

‘That was such a Ronan joke,’ Adam states when he’s able to speak again.

‘I still like the hymns better,’ Matthew muses, picking up his glass.

Niall looks over at his wife and winks.

Adam is about to lose it when he sees Niall is getting more drunk because—he goes straight into panic mode. Fight or flight and it’s always flight. Unless it’s _stay, take it_.

But then Niall is simply eating and making ridiculous jokes and dancing with Aurora. ‘Why don't you come catch a leprechaun with me,’ Adam hears him whisper to her. ‘Maybe together we'll get lucky.’ Aurora rolls her eyes at him and tells him to stop but she’s smiling fondly and Niall kisses his.

Adam has never seen this side of drunken people before – he didn’t even know it was a thing; that it was possible for alcohol not to turn to violence and anger and blood.

But here they are; smiling and joking and waltzing around a little shakily on their feet, kissing sloppily because it’s more smiling than kissing.

Then Niall decides to Skype his mom and family back in Ireland. They’re all together there, drinking and celebrating.

‘Mamma!’ he says when the call goes through and the half-blurred picture of his mom appears on the screen.

‘Niall!’ she says and turns her heard around. ‘Look everyone, Niall called!’

Everyone starts screaming on the other end. Then Niall starts screaming. Aurora, Declan, Ronan, and Matthew start screaming. Adam has absolutely no idea what’s going on. Then Niall hangs up.

‘Happy St. Patrick’s,’ he says again. ‘To another year.’

Everyone gathers together for a sort of messy group-hug: they all get squeezed but none of them care because it’s nice and it’s reassuring and it’s _love_.

  
‘Today was great,’ Adam remarks, when they’re standing at the doorstep, saying goodbye. ‘Thank you.’

‘It was,’ Ronan agrees, still buzzing from everything that’s happened. It has been a good day. Matthew is passed out on the couch.

‘Thank you for coming,’ Ronan adds, smiling at Adam. Adam smiles back. ‘I’ll see you soon,’ he asserts, nodding slowly.

‘I’ll see you,’ Ronan replies softly. ‘Get home safe.’

‘I will,’ Adam tells him. The “getting home” part is not the unsafe one.

He jumps on his bike, waves one last time, then rides home.

When he gets home, he sneaks in, and luckily his parents don’t make any fuzz. He crawls into bed and lies awake for ages, thinking about the whole day: about church, and Ronan’s family; about the way Niall was dancing and smiling and laughing when he got drunk, the contrast to Adam’s own dad, how he’s always shouting and fighting and punching.

Adam wishes he could have this – that he could _just_ have this. He doesn’t think it’s much to ask for; he’s not asking for millions of dollars or to become president, just a normal family. Just a _family_.

He thinks then, that he has one. It doesn’t involve his mom or his dad or anyone related to him by blood. But the Lynches – the Lynches are his family. Like Lewis found the Robinsons, Adam found the Lynches.

 

* * *

 

They’re in the woods, Adam straddling Ronan and tickling him. Ronan is laughing and he somehow flips them over so he’s on top and he digs his hands into Adam’s sides, which makes the latter scream from laughter. ‘ _Ronan_ ,’ he gasps out between laughs but Ronan smirks down at him and tickles his sides again.

Adam’s shirt flies up and Ronan’s entire body freezes as he notices dark marks on his skin.

Adam freezes as well and struggles to get out from underneath Ronan. He looks anywhere but in his eyes.

‘What was that?’ Ronan asks, his voice quiet. That had looked like _finger marks._

‘Nothing,’ Adam answers, and his voice only shakes a little.

‘That was _something_ ,’ Ronan objects, and he moves forward, he takes Adam’s wrist.

Adam wants to push him away because this is getting too much and too close and Ronan’s going to find _out_ and he _can’t_ —

‘No,’ Adam panics, his hands flying from the hem of his shirt to his hair to his skin. ‘I’ve got to—I’ll see you tomorrow?’

‘ _No_ ,’ Ronan argues. ‘Who did this to you, Adam? Is it someone at school? I’ll fight them. They don’t get to do this!’

‘No, it’s not—it’s not like that,’ Adam explains, still not looking at Ronan. ‘It’s nothing.’

‘Adam, tell me what’s going on,’ Ronan asks, and it sounds almost like pleading. ‘I want to help you.’

‘You can’t _help_ me,’ Adam snaps. ‘There’s nothing you can do and it doesn’t matter anyway, okay? I deserved this; I wasn’t _listening_ when he talked to me so it’s my own fault. It doesn’t matter. Can you just pretend you didn’t see it?’

Ronan’s mouth drops open and he stares at Adam in shock. ‘You–’ he stops. ‘Who did this?’

‘My _dad_ ,’ Adam answers, and his voice is cold and detached, cut-off. ‘There, happy now? There’s nothing you can _do_. It doesn’t _matter_.’

He gets up but Ronan tells him to wait and so obviously he does.

‘We have to tell someone,’ Ronan gasps. ‘We have to tell my parents, they can _do_ something, we have to–’

‘NO!’ Adam interrupts him. ‘No.’ He finally looks at Ronan, straight in the eye. ‘Please don’t tell your parents. _Please_.’

‘Adam, we have to–’ he pleads. His mind’s a hurricane of all the things that are _wrong_. This isn’t _right_ ; parents are supposed to _love_ you, they’re supposed to—they’re supposed to hug you and kiss you even though it’s embarrassing, they’re not—they’re not supposed to _hurt_ you, not supposed to leave _blue marks_ all over your body, it’s not—it’s not _right_.

‘No,’ Adam denies and his eyes are huge, begging. He’s so, so embarrassed. Of course this was happening, he knew this was going to happen; Ronan was going to find out and now he did, now he knows how _weak_ and _stupid_ and _worthless_ Adam is and he’s going to lose the one good thing he had, the _one thing_ he can’t lose—‘Please,’ he asks again. ‘Please don’t tell anyone.’

‘I want to–’ Ronan starts and then he stops himself because he’s not sure if what he was about to say would be well received. _I want to kill your dad_. He’s not even ten yet– but it’s as solemn and heartfelt as anything’s possible to be. ‘What about your mom?’ he whispers.

‘She’s–’ Adam inhales, steadying his breathing. ‘I don’t know. Sometimes she’s, you know, _good_ , but—she’s—she never hits me. But she’s—’ his voice catches in his throat and he looks away.

There’s silence for a while, Ronan just looking at Adam. ‘We need to do something,’ he decides then. ‘We have to _tell_.’

‘No,’ Adam argues again. He’s disappearing, soul leaving body or something like that. ‘Don’t tell anyone. They’ll kill me.’ He runs to his bike and jumps on it, doesn’t say goodbye, just _leaves_.

Ronan sits on the ground, staring at Adam as he turns smaller and smaller as he bikes away. _They have to tell._

After some time, he gets on his own bike and rides home slowly.

His mom greets him with a smile but he just absentmindedly nods at her.

He goes to his room.

He doesn’t eat much for dinner. Matthew asks if something is wrong, he shrugs and stabs at his food.

He goes to bed early; brushes his teeth and climbs under the covers.

So many things are beginning to make sense; the first day they met, how Adam was freaking out— _he’ll kill me_ ; all the bruises, the excuses, how he’d been so unbelievably clumsy: all the stairs he’d fallen down, the times he’d crashed on his bike—he’d _never_ —all this _time_!

He doesn’t really sleep that night.

  
Adam doesn’t really sleep that night either. If Ronan tells—he’s _screwed_.

He can’t tell. He wouldn’t—would he? He trusts him. Ronan wouldn’t.

But maybe he would—this is _huge_ , he thinks anyway. Judging on Ronan’s reaction it was.

So what if he tells his parents, what if—would it be that bad? Maybe it’d be all right? Maybe they could really help, maybe they could make a change, maybe—no. Nobody can do anything, there’s nothing to do.

And who would believe him anyway? Him, a ten year old kid against his parents, two adults. He can already hear his mother’s voice: _he’s always been like this, stirring up trouble, seeking attention…_

He doesn’t stand a chance.

If Ronan tells he’s _screwed_.

  
Adam bikes directly home the next day; he passes the Barns faster than ever.

School was a drag; he kept imagining different scenarios of Ronan telling and how it’d play out and how Adam would be completely and utterly _fucked_.

He spends the afternoon in the yard. He doesn’t want to go inside, and the door is locked either way so it’s not like he _can_.

He does his homework for the next day, and then that for the day after. Then he reads. One of the neighbours’ dogs comes over and he pets it for a while. It reminds him of Angle Grinder which reminds him of Ronan which reminds him— _shit._ He closes his eyes.

  
Ronan sulks all day. Matthew tries to drag him outside to play, but he just tells him he doesn’t want to play, not right now. He goes to his room instead, sits down cross-legged on his floor and looks at the glow-in-the-dark-stars.

He switches from mental side to mental side, as if plucking an invisible daisy: I have to tell, I can’t tell, I have to tell, I can’t tell—

In the end, he knows he can’t do it. Adam told him not to, Adam _begged_ him not to, he could never—but he _has_ to, doesn’t he? Doesn’t he _have_ to tell? Adam’s parents are—he doesn’t even know what words to use, this is all too big and bad and horrifying to think about.

What if _his_ dad— _no_. And his mom—

Adam _lives_ like this. How can he _live_ like this, nobody should live like this, he needs to get out, he needs to escape, something needs to be _done_.

Adam’s words echo in his head: _Don’t tell anyone. They’ll kill me._ And the thing is: Ronan doesn’t doubt it. The absolute _terror_ he’d seen on Adam’s face that first day: _I can’t go home like this, he’ll kill me, he’ll kill me, he’ll kill me_.

If Ronan tells, what’s going to happen? Is Adam going to die? He can’t tell. _He can’t tell_.

  
Adam rides past the Barns every day, fast, hitting the pedals hard; he wants to stop but he doesn’t. He doesn’t look over his shoulder as he rides; keeps his head straight, bikes home.

He misses the place, he misses the Lynches, he misses _Ronan_.

And he’s messed that up as well now; he messes _everything_ up. He had _one_ good thing—he had _Ronan_ and he ruined that as well. Why can’t he just be _good_ and _normal_ and not such a _failure_?

His mom and dad are right: he can’t do anything right.

 

‘Where’s your boyfriend?’ Declan asks, punching Ronan’s shoulder lightly.

‘He’s mad at me,’ Ronan answers, breathing heavily. ‘And he’s not my _boyfriend_.’ He adds it almost as an afterthought.

‘Whatever you say,’ Declan says. ‘That sucks though.’

‘Yeah,’ Ronan says.

‘You should apologise.’

‘I know,’ Ronan says, dropping his head back against the wall and closing his eyes.

‘Do you want to play Super Mario, Ronan?’ Matthew asks, stumbling towards him and sitting down beside him on the couch. He pokes his shoulder, grinning widely.

Ronan doesn’t reply at first because Super Mario reminds him of Adam and once again he remembers what happened and he wonders again if he should tell or not. ‘No,’ he says then and Matthew looks at him with huge eyes.

‘You want to then, Dec?’ he asks, turning around to face his other brother.

‘Sure,’ he says and Matthew jumps up. ‘Sorry about Adam, Ronan.’

‘Me too.’

  
It’s night-time, Ronan’s in his bed. Aurora knocks softly on the door and enters.

‘Honey,’ she says, sitting down on the bed. She strokes his head softly. ‘What’s going on?’

Ronan considers playing stupid, but he knows it’s useless. Instead, he looks up at his mom and his tears almost well up, he’s so _tired_ and he misses him so _much_. He hates this.

‘You don’t have to tell me what you fought about,’ she says quietly. ‘But whatever it was, it’s not worth this. It’s not worth all this. You have to make up, it’ll be OK.’

‘I don’t know if it will,’ Ronan doubts and his voice is shaking so much it’s barely audible. ‘I don’t know, mom.’

‘It’s okay not to know,’ she reassures and kisses his forehead softly. ‘But you have to at least try. This isn’t doing you any good, love.’

‘I miss him,’ Ronan confesses.

‘I know, sweetheart,’ Aurora replies, smiling softly at him. ‘Fights happen, and that’s OK, just don’t let it ruin your friendship.’

‘I don’t want it to. I’m scared.’

‘It’s okay,’ his mom tells him and he smiles at her. ‘It’s going to be OK.’

‘Thanks mom,’ Ronan sighs. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, honey,’ she smiles softly and it _stings_ because Adam’s probably never had this. Has anybody ever told him they loved him?

‘Sleep well,’ she says, kissing his forehead again. She gets up and stands in the doorframe looking at him for a couple of seconds. She really hopes they sort whatever this is out.

  
Ronan sits outside the next day, hoping to catch Adam on his way home from school.

He does. He sees him coming and he gets up and stands in the middle of the street so Adam can’t not notice him.

Adam slows down as he gets closer.

‘Please stop,’ Ronan asks and Adam does. They look at each other. Adam wants to throw his bike and hug Ronan. Ronan wants to hug Adam. ‘I miss you,’ he starts and Adam doesn’t say anything. He looks away, he can’t look at Ronan or he’ll do something stupid, like start crying.

They stand awkwardly in the middle of the road, Ronan looking at Adam, Adam looking at the ground. ‘I won’t tell,’ Ronan informs. ‘Please don’t be mad at me.’

Adam looks up at Ronan. ‘Do you promise?’ he asks, voice barely above a whisper. He repeats it a little louder. ‘Do you promise?’

‘I promise I won’t tell,’ Ronan states sincerely. ‘Please stop being mad at me.’

‘I’m not mad at you,’ Adam responds and he sounds surprised. ‘I’m just—’ He doesn’t really know what he is. Terrified, mostly. Terrified of Ronan telling, terrified of what’s going to happen, but most of all terrified of Ronan being mad at him, hating him, _losing Ronan_.

‘You’re not?’ Ronan asks and he sounds just as surprised. ‘I thought you were.’

‘Are you mad at me?’ Adam asks, looking Ronan in the eye.

‘No!’ Ronan answers and he moves closer to Adam. ‘I’ve never been mad at you, why would I—’ He sort of gets lost in his eyes, thinking about how Adam thought he was _mad at him_. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he finishes instead.

‘I’ve missed you too,’ Adam echoes.

‘Do you want to—’ Ronan starts, gesturing vaguely with his hand. ‘Do you want to come inside?’

‘Yes,’ Adam says, nodding slowly, his mouth melting into a large smile. ‘If you want me to.’

‘I want you to,’ Ronan mirrors Adam’s smile.

Adam gets off his bike and puts it down. Ronan takes his hand in his and smiles softly at him. ‘I missed you so _much_.’

‘You promise you won’t tell?’ Adam asks again.

‘I promise,’ Ronan says. ‘Whatever you want.’ He hugs him then, on the doorstep. ‘If you ever change your mind,’ he adds. ‘I will do anything I can to help you.’

‘Thank you,’ Adam exhales, hugging Ronan back.

 

* * *

 

Adam’s parents are away for the weekend. It’s not the first time he’s left alone and he knows it’s not going to be the last either.

In a way, he likes it better when he’s alone. Though he lives of half-dry bread and water, it’s still better, in a way, because there’s not the threat of violence. When there’s no one there who can hurt him, he won’t be hurt.

As soon as they leave, he packs his pyjamas, a toothbrush, and his Gameboy and goes outside to his bike. He rides back to the Barns even though he just left an hour ago.

It’s Ronan who opens the door and his face immediately lights up when he sees Adam. ‘Can I spend the weekend?’ he asks, first now considering that he might be rejected, that they might have plans. _Oh._

‘Yes!’ Ronan says, bouncing on his feet. ‘Like a sleepover? That’d be so cool, oh my God! MOM!’ he screams and Aurora shows up at the door.

‘Can Adam spend the weekend?’ he asks, looking at her with hopeful eyes.

‘Of course,’ Aurora says, smiling at them both. ‘We were just about to eat dinner,’ she continues. ‘Come on in.’

Adam looks up at her with huge eyes, smiling. Then he looks over at Ronan who’s still bouncing on his feet, positively _beaming_ at Adam.

There’s homemade pizza and Coca-Cola for dinner, lots of it. Adam stares and stares and stares.

‘What kind would you like, Adam?’ Niall asks, slicing out the pizzas.

‘I’d–’ he begins, ‘I’d like the pepperoni one,’ he finishes in a quiet voice. ‘Please.’

Niall puts a large slice on Adam’s plate. Adam looks up and sees Matthew giggling at him around his straw.

‘What about you, Ronan?’ Niall asks and Ronan rolls his eyes, ‘pineapple, _obviously_.’

‘Who eats pizza with _pineapple_?’ Adam asks, staring at Ronan in shock. ‘That’s so _loserly_.’

‘I know, kid,’ Niall nods. ‘I’ve been telling him that for _years_.’ He high-fives Adam. Adam wants to scream; there’s an adult _agreeing_ with him, _smiling_ at him, _giving him a high-five_. Mind-blowing.

Adam eats so much he feels like his stomach might explode. Ronan blows into his straw and makes bubbles in his coke and Adam laughs so hard it infects the whole table; Matthew was already laughing but Aurora, Niall, and Declan start as well.

 _This is what family’s supposed to feel like_ , he thinks.

  
From Ronan’s window, it’s possible to see the stars. They stand in their pyjamas and look out at the night sky, Ronan pointing at constellations.

Around midnight, when they’re sure his parents have gone to bed, Ronan puts his finger against his lips and grabs Adam’s wrist. He tugs and pulls him with him into the kitchen.

He crawls onto the table and opens the cupboard. He gets out a box of Oreos, holds it up, and grins wickedly at Adam, still holding his finger against his lips.

Adam tries not to make any sounds but he can’t help the quiet laugh that escapes him.

(On the other side of the wall, Aurora and Niall are wide-awake, and they hear them, but they just smile at each other, _it’s okay, it’s the weekend, they deserve this_.)

They run back into Ronan’s room and fall down on the mattress, finally letting the giggles and comments get out.

‘I’ve never had Oreos before,’ Adam states, staring at Ronan with large eyes. Then he turns his head and he looks at the wall where that drawing he made last year is still hanging. ‘Why do you still have that up?’ he asks, as he feels himself blush.

Ronan looks at him, confused. ‘I love it,’ he says. ‘You gave it to me.’

‘I know,’ Adam replies. ‘I’m just—it’s not super pretty.’

‘Yes, it is,’ Ronan disagrees, looking in confusion between the drawing, to Adam, to the drawing again. He scrunches his eyebrows. ‘I think it’s pretty.’

‘Loser,’ Adam teases, looking away.

‘That’s you,’ Ronan grins as he rips open the Oreo box. He holds it towards Adam and Adam very carefully takes one. Ronan takes one as well.

‘Ready to have your life changed?’ he asks, and Adam smiles at him.

They eat the whole box.

They lie under the covers and Ronan experimentally wraps his fingers around Adam’s. The room is dark so it feels safer, somehow. He can’t see how Adam reacts but he feels him squeeze his hand lightly, which has Ronan blushing– so thank God for the darkness of the room.

‘Goodnight,’ Adam whispers, turning his body.

‘Goodnight,’ Ronan replies, also in a whisper. ‘Sleep well.’

‘You too, loser.’

They both fall asleep smiling, holding hands.

  
Ronan wakes up first the next morning and he feels Adam’s body against his. Legs pressed together, and his face buried in the curve of his neck.

Ronan feels like dying.

He can feel Adam’s heartbeat, and his slow, steady breathing. Peaceful. Sleeping Beauty.

Should he wake him? He wonders for a minute but then Matthew barges into the room, which wakes Adam, so Ronan doesn’t have to make a choice.

‘Mom’s making blueberry pancakes,’ Matthew says excitedly. ‘She told me to wake you.’ Then he turns around and leaves.

‘Morning,’ Ronan says, voice heavy with sleep.

‘Good morning,’ Adam smiles at him, rubbing his eye. He’s sitting up now, no longer touching Ronan. He’d woken up in the middle of the night and Ronan had been asleep so it couldn’t—he just really likes when he hugs him. It’s like—he’s worth something, it’s like _safety_. So he’d scooted closer to him and softly, careful not to wake him, curled into him. Ronan wouldn’t ever know it wasn’t by accident. It was okay. ‘How’d you sleep?’ he asks and Ronan smiles sleepily at him.

‘Really good,’ he says. ‘How about you?’

If Ronan had slept “really good” it couldn’t have been all bad what Adam had done. ‘Really good,’ he echoes, smiling as well.

‘Pancakes!’ Aurora shouts from the kitchen and Ronan and Adam grin at each other and run out to her.

Matthew and Declan are already seated at the table, as is Niall with a cup of coffee.

‘Morning boys,’ he says and puts the cup to his lips. He shares a look with Aurora; they’re both thinking about the missing box of Oreos in the cupboard.

There’s already a large stack of pancakes on the middle of the table and Matthew’s face is already smeared with both Nutella and syrup. ‘They’re really good,’ he says, smiling, dimples appearing. Aurora looks at him and shakes her head slowly.

Adam and Ronan sit down and Ronan puts a pancake on each of their plates. He hands Adam the sugar, then pours chocolate milk into their glasses.

After eating, they run back into Ronan’s room and crawl under the covers, which are still warm.

They get out their Gameboys and start playing.

A little later Aurora knocks on the door and pops her head in. ‘Go take a shower boys,’ she says. ‘We’re going out soon.’

They don’t listen; they’re busy playing.

After a while they hear her coming back and without agreeing they hide under the covers, covering their mouths to try to stop the giggles from spilling out.

Aurora stands in the doorframe a couple of seconds just smiling at the figures under the blankets, listening to them laughing.

‘Boys,’ she says. ‘If you want to come with us to the arcade, you have to go shower.’

Ronan rips the covers off and stares at his mom. ‘We’re going to the arcade?’

She smiles at him. ‘If you shower, yes.’

Ronan looks over at Adam. ‘We’re going to the _arcade_.’

‘If we shower,’ Adam says, his eyes are glinting and he’s smiling wide at Ronan, then at Aurora.

‘So who wants to go first?’ Aurora asks, raising her eyebrow.

‘Adam, you can go first,’ Ronan says; gesturing to the door, shy all of a sudden.

  
Aurora takes them to the arcade.

They run to the air hockey table and Ronan grins wickedly at Adam when he throws a coin into it and it lights up and starts playing sounds. ‘I’m going to _destroy_ you,’ he says.

‘I’d like to see you try,’ Adam says and grips the mallet.

Ronan does not destroy Adam, quite the contrary.

‘You cheated,’ Ronan says. ‘The game’s rigged. You _cheated_.’

‘How could I be _cheating_?’ Adam asks.

‘I don’t know,’ Ronan says. ‘I’m going to find out though. Until then, your victory is null.’

‘Sore loser,’ Adam laughs.

‘Cheater.’

‘I didn’t _cheat_ ,’ Adam argues. ‘How do you cheat at _air hockey_?’

‘You’d know,’ Ronan says. ‘You’re the one doing it.’

  
There’s a photo booth in the arcade. Ronan runs to his mom and asks if they can get money for it and she smiles, ‘why not.’

They get about a million of six-photo-strings with ridiculous poses. Sticking out their tongues. Blowing out their cheeks. Peace signs.

Ronan thinks about whether he could get away with kissing Adam’s cheek. Then Adam looks over at him and Ronan blushes and looks away.

‘This is amazing,’ he says, grinning widely.

‘I know,’ Ronan says.

They take a final picture where they’re both just laughing, no silly poses, just _them_ — _happy_.

  
They drive to McDonalds on the way home.

They get Happy Meals and strawberry milkshakes. Matthew only eats one nugget because he’s so engrossed by his toy. ‘Look mom,’ he says, eyes huge and mouth open. ‘It can _play a sound_!’

Aurora smiles at him. ‘I can hear, love,’ she says.

‘Coooooool,’ Matthew says, staring at the toy again.

‘Mom, can we get ice cream?’ Declan asks, not even halfway through his cheeseburger yet.

‘Why not,’ Aurora says. ‘You have to eat that first though.’

‘ _Obviously_ ,’ Declan says. ‘I was going to.’

‘I want the McFlurry with smarties,’ Ronan says. He leans towards Adam, ‘it’s the _best_.’

‘I’ve never had it,’ Adam says.

‘Ronan’s lying,’ Declan interrupts. ‘Daim’s the best.’

‘I like sundaes best,’ Matthew pipes up, not looking away from his toy. ‘Especially with caramel sauce.’

‘You can get whatever you want,’ Aurora says and Adam gapes at her, then quickly looks down at his French fries instead, embarrassed. _You can get whatever you want_.

Adam gets the same ice cream as Ronan.

‘Thank you ma’am,’ he says to Aurora and she smiles at him. ‘This is really good,’ he smiles, head bobbing up and down.

‘ _Right_?’ Ronan says.

‘You’re saying that now,’ Declan says. ‘But you haven’t had _this_.’

Ronan rolls his eyes at him. ‘Smarties are the best,’ he says. ‘Don’t listen to him.’

‘I’m not,’ Adam smiles at him. ‘I trust you.’

Ronan’s heart all but skips a beat.

  
‘Goodnight, my beautiful boys,’ Aurora says, dropping a kiss on first Ronan’s then Adam’s cheek. ‘Sleep well.’

Adam feels like crying. He can’t even get a “ _you too”_ out through the lump in his throat.

  
They spend Sunday morning in pyjamas watching The Incredibles in the living room.

Declan talks about how he’s going to start a superhero corporation when he gets older. ‘Mom, do you want to be the seamstress?’ he asks, looking quickly at Aurora.

‘Sure love,’ she replies.

‘Sweet,’ he says. ‘I’m going to be like Mr Incredible.’

‘I don’t know who Ronan is, but it’s not Dash,’ Adam says. ‘Because Ronan is slow.’

‘Excuse _you_ , loser,’ Ronan says, looking at Adam. ‘Who won last time we raced?’

‘I did,’ Adam answers. ‘Just like the time before, and the time before that. I don’t think you’ve ever won.’

‘Well,’ Ronan says. ‘Maybe I just–maybe I’m _letting_ you win.’

Adam arches an eyebrow at him.

‘Because I know you’d be _devastated_ if you lost. I guess I’m just too nice to really unleash my _super speed_.’

‘That’s the worst excuse ever,’ Adam says.

‘I’m Jack-Jack,’ Matthew says.

‘I think Ronan could be Violet,’ Aurora says. ‘He always disappears whenever I’m telling him to do chores. Actually, Declan you could be Violet as well.’

‘I’m Mr _Incredible_ ,’ he says. ‘I’m not sure I want you to be part of my corporation anymore.’ Aurora just laughs heartily at him and looks back at the TV.

  
Ronan and Adam take an awful long time about saying goodbye.

‘Will you come after school tomorrow?’ Ronan asks.

‘Yes, I’ll come after school tomorrow,’ Adam says, squeezing Ronan’s hand, unable to stop smiling.

‘This weekend was so good,’ Ronan says. ‘So good.’

‘I _know_ ,’ Adam says. ‘Everything was so–’

‘Can I hug you?’ Ronan asks and Adam nods enthusiastically and wraps his arms around his best friend. ‘Yeah,’ he breathes into Ronan’s shoulder.

‘Thanks,’ Ronan says and his voice _doesn’t_ shake.

‘You too,’ Adam says. ‘You remember who won air hockey?’ he laughs when he pulls away from the embrace.

‘Shut up,’ Ronan says. ‘I _let_ you win.’

‘Sure you did,’ Adam laughs. ‘Sure you did.’

‘Whatever,’ Ronan smiles back. ‘Who even cares? I don’t.’

‘Of course you don’t,’ Adam says, adopting a mock-serious face. ‘Why would you?’

‘Fuck you,’ Ronan says and Adam raises his eyebrow at him. ‘Fuck me, huh?’

‘I didn’t–’ Ronan says, blushing and looking away. ‘Shut up.’

Adam shuts up but he’s still wearing a shit-eating grin as he squeezes Ronan’s hand again. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’ he asks instead.

‘Yeah,’ Ronan breathes out, smiling. ‘Please. Thanks for this weekend.’

‘Thank you too,’ Adam says. ‘It was— _really_ great.’

‘Yes,’ Ronan says.

Adam picks up his bag and jumps up on his bike. He turns around to face Ronan a last time, smiles and waves, then kicks the pedals and drives away.

He absolutely does not have to stop halfway home to wipe tears away.

In his backpack lie two of the photo strings and that night he gets them out and looks at them in bed. His parents are home but he almost – _almost_ – doesn’t mind, the memory of the weekend still too clear in his mind.

 

* * *

 

Ronan’s in an Irish music competition.

He’s been practicing his number for _weeks_ – in his room with a concentrated face.

He hadn’t allowed Adam to watch. He practiced with his music teacher and alone, sometimes maybe his mom. But Adam couldn’t watch.

He could come to the competition though, of course. He just didn’t want him seeing all the mistakes he made during practice; the times he just _couldn’t_ make the violin work properly, all the high-pitched tones that sounded more like strangled cats than music.

It’s a Saturday and Adam shows up at the Barns at the exact time they’d agreed on.

Everyone jumps into the car, Adam sitting beside Ronan.

Ronan’s trying to mask his nerves but he’s not doing a very good job. His right leg is bouncing up and he keeps fidgeting with the leather bands around his wrist.

‘Hey,’ Adam smiles softly at him and takes his hand. ‘You’re going to ace it.’

‘Ha,’ Ronan laughs dryly. ‘Thanks.’ He squeezes Adam’s hand and the physical contact _does_ calm him down a bit. It’s going to be OK.

Adam has made a sign. Aurora and Matthew helped as well and when it’s Ronan’s turn to play they hold it up and smile at him.

When he finishes playing they applaud and cheer and Ronan blushes because they’re _embarrassing_.

He’s still happy they’re there though. He thinks about how it’s embarrassing, yes, but it’s—they’re _there_. They care about him.

Ronan’s never doubted that his family loves him so they might be embarrassing but aren’t families supposed to, sort of?

Suddenly, he’s overwhelmed with gratitude for his loud, weird, embarrassing family because it’s _there_. It _exists_. He never has to doubt for a _second_ whether he’s wanted – and he’s so sad and angry that Adam can’t say the same.

He wins the competition. His mom and dad hug him and congratulate him – ‘you did so _well_ , we’re so _proud_.’ His brothers hug him as well. ‘Nice, little brother,’ Declan says.

Adam hugs him too. ‘That was so _great_ ,’ he says. ‘Congratulations!’

‘Thanks,’ Ronan says, looking down. He hugs him tight. ‘Thanks for coming.’

In the car on the way home Matthew says, ‘sort of impressive seals can play fiddle’ and Ronan screams out loud as everyone else starts laughing so hard they tear up.

‘I hate you,’ Ronan says. ‘You’re the _worst_.’ He glares out the window for a minute while he waits for the rest to stop laughing. ‘I want cinnamon rolls,’ he says. ‘To celebrate how I won.’

When they get home to the Barns, Aurora quickly throws the ingredients together and whip out a batch of cinnamon rolls. There’s lemonade as well.

They all sit in the kitchen and congratulate Ronan on the victory as they eat cinnamon rolls and are happy and together and family-like.

 

* * *

 

It’s a Thursday afternoon and Ronan and Adam are sitting on the living room floor in front of the television. They’re playing Mario Kart.

It’s Adam’s turn to choose the course; they’ve just played Moo Moo Farm, which is Ronan’s favourite, and yet he didn’t win.

Adam clicks on “Special cup” and then he clicks on “Rainbow Road.”

Ronan groans. ‘ _Why_ ,’ he says.

‘Still not up for a challenge, Lynch?’

‘Get ready loser,’ Ronan says and sets his jaw. ‘I’m about to _wreck you_.’

‘Sure,’ Adam laughs, turning his attention back to the screen.

The numbers appear, 3 – 2 – they hit the button – 1 – and _drive_.

Ronan’s leading but he doesn’t look over at Adam to gloat because he has to stay focused, otherwise he’s going to lose his position.

Adam, on the other hand, is looking at Ronan; flushed cheeks, biting his lip in concentration. He looks— _wow_.

Ronan is far ahead now but he doesn’t say “I’m going to win, Adam, are you seeing this, I’m _winning_ ” because he knows not to tempt fate; arrogance stands for a fall and all that.

Then, he wins. He gets in as number one and Adam’s all the way down as number _five_.

Ronan looks over at Adam and for a second he’s too confused about what just happened to say anything. He’s just staring at him; red cheeks, breathless.

Then it kicks in. ‘I _won_ ,’ he screams, throws the console and jumps up. ‘I WON!’

Adam groans. ‘You did,’ he says, trying not to think about the way Ronan’s lips are swollen. ‘I let you win. You were so sad about how you never won, so.’

‘Like hell you did,’ Ronan says. ‘I _beat_ you, fair and square. _Rainbow Road_ ,’ he adds, delirious. ‘Mom,’ he screams and runs into the kitchen. ‘I beat Adam at Mario Kart. I did it, I _knew_ I could.’

Adam is still sitting on the floor in the living room. He gets up and follows Ronan who’s on his way into Declan’s room to share the news with him as well.

‘Guess who beat _Adam_ at _Rainbow Road_ ,’ he says and Declan looks at him.

‘Took you long enough,’ he says. ‘You sure he didn’t let you win?’

‘I won,’ Ronan says. ‘Who cares if he was too busy thinking about how gorgeous I am or wondering about homework, who _cares_? That’s his own fault. I won. I _won_.’

Adam’s standing in the doorframe. He looks at Declan and rolls his eyes.

‘You let him win, right?’

‘Of course,’ he says.

Ronan is too excited to care about what they’re saying. He runs back into the kitchen.

‘Mom,’ he says again and Aurora looks at him again. ‘I heard you honey,’ she says. ‘I’m proud of you.’

‘I’m the _best_ ,’ he says. ‘You all thought seals sucked, but look at me _now_.’

‘You’re a loser,’ Adam says, but he’s smiling.

‘I just _won_ ,’ Ronan corrects. ‘I _beat_ you.’

‘Well, enjoy it while it lasts,’ Adam taunts. ‘Because it’ll never happen again.’

Ronan is too out of it to focus on anything or sit still. He’s bouncing on his feet, walking back and forth in the kitchen. ‘I beat him,’ he grins, repeating it over and over. ‘I beat him, I beat him, I beat him.’

‘How long have you been fantasising about this?’ Adam asks, arching an eyebrow.

‘Since the first time we played,’ Ronan nods. ‘I knew I could do it.’

‘This is _such_ a loser reaction,’ Adam says. ‘Why are you so— _loserly_?’ He waves his hand around in front of him.

‘Look who’s _talking_ ,’ Ronan mocks. ‘The _loser_.’

Aurora is smiling fondly at them. ‘Boys,’ she chuckles.

‘Mom,’ Ronan looks up at her. ‘I won over Adam at Rainbow Road.’


	4. Eleven years old

‘There was once a young gorgeous woman,’ Niall begins in a low voice.

They’re all sitting under blankets in the living room; it’s only five, but it’s dark outside. Aurora has lit a couple of candles but otherwise the room is pitch black.

‘She was known all over the country for her beauty,’ Niall continues, looking at Aurora for a second. ‘She fell in love with a local peasant, but her father wouldn’t accept that, so he forced her into a marriage with a rich man.’ Niall pauses for a second, lets the words sink in. Then he picks up again. ‘This man treated her horribly, though, which eventually led to this woman killing herself.

‘They buried her near Strongbow’s Tree in Waterford and then one night–’ Niall lowers his voice even more and leans forward in his chair a little. ‘She rose from the grave to seek revenge on her father and husband.’

‘How’d she–’ Ronan whispers, mouth hanging open.

‘By _sucking_ their blood until they _dropped dead_ ,’ Niall says, looking Ronan straight in the eye. Then he looks over at Declan, Adam, and then Matthew, who’s cradling his mother’s hand and hiding his face in her shoulder.

Ronan pulls the blanket closer around him and grabs Adam’s hand, squeezing it tight. He doesn’t look over at him, he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, he’s too scared.

‘Now this woman’s known as _Dearg-due_ and she still rises from her grave _once every year_.’

‘What does she–’ Ronan stutters out in a hushed voice. He squeezes Adam’s hand again.

‘She uses her beauty to lure men to her,’ Niall answers. ‘And then she _kills them_.’

‘By–’ Adam hesitates. ‘By drinking their blood?’

‘By drinking their blood,’ Niall confirms, nodding slowly.

Matthew’s face is still buried in Aurora’s neck.

Declan, who’s trying to be stoic, opens his mouth then. ‘Is there—can we defeat her?’

‘Yes,’ Niall says, drawn-out. ‘There is one way.’

Ten seconds pass, Niall doesn’t say anything. ‘How?’ Ronan pleads.

Something slams against the window and Adam jumps in his seat, squeezing Ronan’s hand. His head flies to the side and they catch each other’s eye; they both look terrified, wide eyes, mouth hanging open. ‘What was that?’ Adam mouths and Ronan shakes his head. ‘I don’t know?’

Ronan looks back at his dad. ‘How can you defeat her?’

‘It’s not possible to kill her,’ Niall says slowly. ‘But to prevent her from rising from the grave, you can put a pile of stones on her grave.’

They stare and stare and stare. ‘And then she won’t–’ Declan says, façade breaking.

‘Then she can’t get out,’ Niall says.

‘And can’t kill us,’ Ronan concludes. He looks over at Adam. ‘Then we’ll be OK,’ he says.

Adam squeezes his hand and breathes softly. ‘Then we’ll be OK.’

 

* * *

 

‘Have you ever seen Star Wars?’ Ronan asks one day.

‘No,’ Adam says truthfully. He’s heard about it and he knows you’re supposed to have seen it but that hasn’t really been an option. ‘No, I haven’t.’

‘That’s–’ Ronan says, and stops. He’d wanted to say that was a _tragedy_ but then he remembered how Adam hasn’t really seen any films and—well, it _is_ a tragedy. ‘We have to fix that,’ he says instead.

‘OK,’ Adam agrees, nodding. ‘What are you planning?’

‘I’m planning that you come over here and we watch them all,’ he says. ‘We can make popcorn and drink _sodas_ and stay up all night. It’ll be _awesome_!’

‘I’ll have to–’ Adam says. ‘When?’ he asks, trying not to choke.

‘As soon as possible,’ Ronan says. ‘Maybe you can come over this weekend?’

‘I’ll have to— _maybe_?’ Adam suggests, a hopeful tone. ‘I’ll ask my mom.’

‘I’m crossing my fingers,’ Ronan says, unable to sit still. ‘I’m Luke, by the way. You can be Han if you want. But I’m Luke.’

‘He’s the protagonist, right?’ Adam asks.

‘Yes,’ Ronan says. ‘He’s _cool_.’

  
It takes surprisingly little for Adam to persuade his mom to let him stay the night at Ronan’s. He figures she probably doesn’t care much anyway, so. Getting him out of the house is a win.

He brings his toothbrush and pyjamas with him to school, hidden in the bottom of his bag, so he doesn’t have to go home before going to the Barns.

‘Are you ready?’ is the first thing Ronan says. ‘I am _so_ ready!’

‘Yeah,’ Adam says. ‘I’m excited. How many times have you watched them?’

‘A lot,’ Ronan says, counting on his fingers. ‘Four? Five, maybe? I don’t know.’

‘That’s a lot,’ Adam agrees.

‘They’re _awesome_ ,’ Ronan says, bouncing on his feet.

In the living room, they’ve put up mattresses and a mountain of blankets and pillows.

‘Mom agreed we could have pizza for dinner,’ Ronan says. ‘And we can eat it _while watching_.’

‘Cool,’ Adam says, awe in his eyes. He drops his bag on the floor and crawls onto the mattresses.

The first DVD is already in the player and on the TV is a man with a lightsaber.

Ronan presses play and crawls back and sits beside Adam. He looks over at him. ‘This’ll be so _cool_.’

When they’re halfway through the second film, Aurora asks what pizzas they want. Ronan pauses the film for a minute while they rattle off their wishes. Then he presses play again and they keep watching.

Adam tries not to make too many comments throughout but sometimes he _has_ to. He thinks Han Solo is cool, and it’s even cooler that Ronan said he could be him. Luke is also cool. He’s kind of cute, as well. Which is a weird thought. That has nothing to do with the film. Adam _stop_.

‘You’ll have to come get the pizza yourself,’ Aurora calls. ‘I’m not your servant.’

‘You’re our _mom_ ,’ Ronan and Declan say in unison.

‘She’s not our _servant_ ,’ Matthew says, getting up from the couch and running into the kitchen.

Ronan pauses the movie and they get up and go get the pizza they want.

Back in the living room with food and Fanta, Ronan presses play again and they continue the marathon.

Whenever it gets scary, Adam deliberately pulls up the blankets instead of hiding his face in Ronan’s shoulder. That’d be really weird, so he doesn’t.

At two am, Adam falls asleep. His head drops back, then it falls further and ends on Ronan’s shoulder.

Ronan freezes, doesn’t know what to do. Should he wake him? Should he let him sleep? He’s probably not slept all week. Ronan looks over his shoulder and finds Declan looking at them. He quickly looks back at Adam so Dec doesn’t catch him blushing.

Adam shifts and his hair tickles Ronan’s collarbone. Ronan focuses intently on the TV screen but every word uttered goes in one ear and out the other, he can’t _concentrate_. Adam is resting against him, _asleep_. And why does this even feel weird like this?

‘Dec, I’m tired,’ he says a couple of minutes later, in a hushed voice, careful not to wake Adam. ‘Can we pause this and watch it tomorrow?’ He yawns for good measure.

‘Sure,’ Declan says, winking at him. ‘Careful not to wake your boyfriend.’

Declan turns off the TV, smirks at Ronan, and then gets up. ‘Sleep well, Ronan,’ he says.

‘You too, Dec.’

Ronan contemplates for a second what he’s going to do. Then he lies down and Adam follows without waking up. He gingerly drapes a blanket over him, and softly lets his own body curl against his. Adam sighs contently in his sleep and Ronan’s breath catches in his throat.

  
The lightsaber fights last _months_. Every time Adam comes over, they pick up a lightsaber each and start fencing.

Matthew often joins in but he wants to be R2D2 so he’s just standing on the sideline saying beep sounds.

‘Beep,’ he says. ‘Beep beep beep.’ Ronan charges at Adam with his lightsaber upheld.

‘Beepity boppity,’ Matthew says frantically. ‘Beep beep beeeeeeep!’

Adam falls to the floor, dramatically. ‘Oh no,’ he gasps, rolling over. ‘You have killed me! How could you?’

‘HA!’ Ronan barks, swinging the sword around in the air. ‘I have the _force_.’

Adam lets out a final sound of agony and lets his eyes roll shut.

  
Sometimes, Declan joins too. He’s Darth, and then Adam and Ronan are Han and Luke, fighting him together.

Other times, they pretend to be Luke and Han and fight inanimate objects; a chair, a tree, a large teddy bear nicknamed Jabba the Hut for the occasion.

‘I am a Jedi,’ Ronan says in a grave voice. ‘Like my father before me.’

‘You’re a loser is what you are,’ Adam says, hitting Ronan’s sword with his own. ‘And I’ll _wreck you_.’

‘I’d like to see you _try_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘Loser!’

 

* * *

 

Ronan’s family from Ireland is visiting; the whole extended flock: his grandma, his cousins, his aunts and uncles.

Ronan’s grandma is _cool_. She sneaks them money and tells them they don’t eat enough. Hands out small packages of candy from her handbag.

‘And who is this young man?’ she’d said when she first saw Adam.

‘I’m Adam,’ he’d said. ‘Ronan’s friend.’

‘Best friend,’ Ronan had corrected. ‘ _Best_ friend.’

Adam had looked over at him, smiling. ‘Best friend,’ he’d said.

Grandma Lynch had pulled two packs of candy out of her handbag and handed them one each. ‘Don’t tell your parents,’ she’d whispered, winking at Ronan.

Ronan had winked back at her and Adam had breathed out a very sincere _thank you_.

  
Ronan’s cousin Aidan is in his twenties and he takes them to the city to get ice cream. They both get two scoops: Ronan gets chocolate and strawberry sherbet; Adam gets vanilla and caramel. They taste each other’s – to try, to see whether they should choose another flavour next time. Ronan is sad he didn’t choose caramel because it’s way better than the chocolate one.

‘So, ten years old, huh?’ Aidan says when they’re sitting on a bench. ‘When I was ten I had my first girlfriend. Do you have a girlfriend, Ronnie?’

Ronan starts blushing. ‘No,’ he says in a small voice.

‘Oh,’ Aidan blinks. ‘Well, I guess I was just too cool. I bet you’ve already kissed a bit though, I know I had. How many girls have you kissed?’

Ronan blushes, if possibly, even more at that. ‘None,’ he says, looking down.

Aidan blinks at him. ‘All right,’ he says. ‘What about you Adam?’

Adam chokes on his ice cream. ‘I haven’t got a girlfriend,’ he says.

‘But you’ve kissed someone, right?’

Adam glances at Ronan, then back at Aidan. ‘No.’

‘I can’t _believe_ this,’ he says. ‘All right, maybe you’re just too young.’

  
Aidan’s little sister’s name is Siobhan. She’s ten as well, and very frisky.

She’s got red hair, tied up in pigtails, freckles everywhere, and a gap between her front teeth.

‘Hi Ronan,’ she says in a loud voice, running towards him to hug him.

‘Siobi,’ Ronan laughs, hugging her back. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m good,’ she says. ‘I don’t have to go to school for _six weeks_!’

‘Me neither,’ Ronan laughs. ‘School is gross, I’m finally free.’

‘I know,’ Siobhan says. ‘Who are you?’ she continues, looking at Adam.

‘That’s Adam,’ Ronan says before Adam gets a chance. ‘He’s my best friend.’

‘Hi,’ Adam says, unsure whether he should reach his hand forward. Siobhan makes the choice for him though, apparently judging him all right, and pulls him into a hug. ‘Hi,’ she laughs. ‘I’m Siobhan, Ronan’s cousin. I’m almost eleven.’

‘I turned eleven two weeks ago,’ he says, smiling proudly. ‘Ronan is only ten.’

‘I know,’ Siobhan says. ‘He’s a _child_.’

‘Piss off,’ Ronan says. ‘You’re two months older than me.’

‘Older than you,’ Siobhan says. ‘Cooler than you.’

‘Everywhere I go, I am bullied,’ Ronan bemoans. ‘Adam says I’m a loser, you say I’m a loser, my own _family_ –’

‘It’s weird, isn’t it,’ Adam deadpans. ‘You’d almost think, since so many people agree on it, that it was _right_.’

‘I won over you at Rainbow Road,’ Ronan says. ‘You’re the loser.’

‘You’ve won over me _once_ ,’ Adam corrects. ‘And it’s been _half a year_.’

‘Oh, you have Mario Kart?’ Siobhan asks. ‘I love Mario Kart. I’m really good.’

‘So is Adam,’ Ronan says. ‘I bet you can’t beat him.’

Adam blushes, but only slightly. Compliments are—still a language he doesn’t really understand. Or, well, he does except when they’re directed at him. He’s not really _deserving_ of compliments. There’s nothing to compliment.

‘I can beat everyone,’ Siobhan says. ‘I’ve beat Aidan twenty-eight times.’

‘How many times have you played against Aidan?’ Ronan asks.

‘Twenty-eight times.’

‘Wow,’ Ronan says. ‘I think Adam and I have played one hundred million times.’

‘And you’ve only won once,’ Adam finished. ‘Great stats, Ronan.’

‘Ronan,’ Siobhan says. ‘You suck.’

‘My own _family_ ,’ Ronan says shocked. ‘Turning against me like this! Soon I will be unable to _live_.’

‘You’re being dramatic,’ Adam says.

‘You still like me though,’ Ronan says and there’s a shadow of a hopeful tone to it.

‘I still like you though,’ Adam says quietly, just for him and Ronan. ‘You’re my favourite.’

‘You’re my favourite, too.’

Ronan turns on the TV and Nintendo and hands Siobhan and Adam a console each.

‘Matthew,’ he yells. ‘Are you joining?’

Matthew pads in and gets the last console. ‘I’m going to win,’ he says, smiling at the TV. He picks Toad.

Siobhan picks Bowser so Ronan picks Daisy. Declan isn’t there anyway.

‘What course?’ he asks, looking at his cousin because he knows what Adam’s going to say.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Siobhan says. ‘I’ll beat your ass no matter what.’

‘I don’t question it,’ Ronan says resignedly.

First course, Adam gets in as number one and Siobhan says it doesn’t count because he’s had time getting used to the weird ways of Americans and she hasn’t yet, so. Ronan gets in last because he saw Matthew falling behind and he wanted to give him at least the victory of winning over his big brother.

‘I _beat_ you, Ronan,’ he says, looking at him with his large eyes. He’s smiling, all dimples and missing teeth. ‘I am so _good_.’

‘I can’t believe I lost to _you_ ,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes. ‘You’re not even _seven_.’

‘Guess I’m just too _good_ ,’ Matthew laughs, hitting all the buttons at the same time.

‘Isn’t Mario Kart the same here as it is in Ireland?’ Adam asks, looking at Siobhan. ‘I think that’s just a bad excuse.’

‘You’re _American_ ,’ she says. ‘There’s absolutely nothing even remotely similar about _Ireland_ and _America_. I don’t want to be compared to Americans this way.’

‘But,’ Adam says. ‘What’s—what’s the difference between your Mario Kart and our Mario Kart?’

‘Anyway,’ Siobhan says. ‘Let’s play again.’

This time, Siobhan wins. ‘Suck it,’ she says.

‘I just won,’ Adam says. ‘Like, three minutes ago.’

‘Can’t hear you,’ Siobhan says, smiling. She punches Adam’s shoulder. ‘Want to try again?’

‘Yeah,’ Adam says, grinning at her. ‘I’ll beat your Irish ass.’

‘Good luck with that,’ she laughs and her grin is like Ronan’s; wicked, overwhelming.

Adam is smiling at her and he hits the A button and a new course begins.

Ronan isn’t paying attention to the screen. He’s staring at Adam, then at Siobhan, the way they’re laughing at each other, Siobhan tucking at her hair, calling Adam a _damn American loser_ , Adam grinning at her, he’s—

He clenches his fist, forces his eyes away from them and back at the screen where he’s falling behind horribly, Matthew’s going to win over him and he’s not even being bad on _purpose_.

He doesn’t get why he’s suddenly so angry, frustrated, it’s _okay_ , why is he—step away from Adam. If she’d just—stop doing that thing with her hair, and—making him _laugh_ , if she’d—

What’s going _on_?

It’s fine. He breathes out slowly, focuses on the game. It’s fine.

  
His uncles are there too. Ronan doesn’t remember them – he’s met Rick once when he was very young, but he’s never met his boyfriend.

Rick is Niall’s little brother.

‘Niall,’ Rick says. ‘This is Jeffrey.’

‘Hi,’ Niall says, taking his hand. ‘Nice to _finally_ meet you, Rick never shuts up about you.’

‘Yes I do,’ Rick says as Jeffrey laughs and says ‘only good things I hope.’

‘I talk about other things,’ Rick says. ‘Don’t listen to him.’

Jeffrey laughs and kisses Rick quickly, then looks back at Niall. ‘Are we getting a tour of this place?’ he asks.

‘Damn straight,’ Niall says.

  
‘Mom,’ Ronan says in a quiet voice. Aurora’s standing alone in the kitchen; the others are sitting outside on the porch. It’s past Ronan’s bedtime.

‘Yes, love,’ she says, looking over at him. He looks distressed so she doesn’t ask why he’s not in bed.

‘Do boys–’ Ronan says, looking down. ‘Do boys date boys, is that—is that a thing?’

Aurora smiles at him. ‘Yeah, baby, sometimes boys date boys.’

Ronan’s eyes are wide. ‘Any boys date any boys?’

‘Well,’ Aurora says. ‘Some boys like girls and some boys like boys and some like both and some don’t like anyone.’

‘Is that–’ Ronan stutters. ‘And that’s an OK thing?’

‘Of course!’ Aurora says. ‘Some girls also don’t like boys.’

‘Oh,’ Ronan says, blushing. He continues in a quiet voice because he’s shy. ‘So if I, _hypothetically_ ,’ he says, pronouncing the word he’s learnt from Adam slowly, ‘wanted to date a boy one day, that’d be all right?’

‘Yes,’ Aurora reassures him. ‘Anyone you love is all right.’

Ronan turns around and quietly wanders into his room, leaving Aurora in the kitchen to smile as she cleans up the rest of the dishes.

Ronan lies down on his bed but he’s unable to sleep, just staring at his fluorescent stars. _Boys liking boys is a thing_ , he thinks. He’s slowly coming to a realisation and just to see how it feels—

‘I like Adam,’ he whispers super quietly, then blushes and brings the covers to his head and squeezes his eyes shut.

He forces himself to _stop thinking_ , fall asleep, and then he never lets himself think about it again.

 

* * *

 

‘I’m leaving tomorrow,’ Niall says at dinner, all of them sitting around the table. They’re getting pizza. ‘But I should be home again in two weeks tops. I’ve been thinking you’re all already old enough to learn how to defend yourself. What do you say I teach you how?’

‘Awesome,’ Declan says and smiles up at his dad. ‘I can’t wait.’

Ronan’s mind instantly goes to Adam – learn to _defend yourself_ , that’s—

‘Yes,’ Ronan says. ‘That sounds cool.’ He takes a bite of his pineapple pizza and zones out of the conversation. He can hear they’re still talking but his mind is elsewhere. That’d be—maybe dad would teach Adam as well, Adam would be able to defend himself, he could—

This could be really, really good.

 

* * *

 

Aurora takes them strawberry harvesting.

She’s wearing a floaty sundress, a straw hat and a large smile.

Matthew is in rubber boots. He’s worn rubber boots every single day of the summer vacation. He loves his rubber boots. They have dinosaurs on them.

Ronan keeps putting as many strawberries in his mouth as in the bowl they’re collecting in.

‘They’re _free_ ,’ he says. ‘And they’re _good_.’

‘Isn’t it a kind of theft?’ Adam wonders aloud and Ronan just stares at him like he’s contemplating all his life choices. ‘Aren’t _you_ a kind of theft?’ he says.

‘That doesn’t even make sense,’ Adam says, staring at Ronan like it’s his turn to contemplate all his life choices.

Ronan blushes. ‘Shut up,’ he says, looking away. ‘The strawberries are good.’

Adam very slowly puts one into his mouth, chews, smiles at Ronan, and wipes the juice trickling down his chin away with his fingers. ‘You’re right,’ he says, after swallowing. ‘Good.’

Ronan stares at him, and then remembers to close his mouth. ‘Yes,’ he says, bending down and plucking another strawberry,

  
When they’ve filled two washing-up bowls, they walk back from the field and Aurora pays.

At home, Aurora gets to clean the strawberries while the kids run into the garden to play soccer. Declan and Matthew against Adam and Ronan. Ronan is goalkeeper and he lets Matthew get the ball in every time because he feels bad about not doing it. And Matthew’s large smile is worth it.

Adam scores, throws his hands into the air, and screams “YES!” loudly, then runs back and hugs Ronan.

‘Boys!’ Aurora calls out the window then and they all turn their attention to her. ‘Come in!’

They run inside as fast as they can, almost stumbling.

‘We won,’ Matthew says proudly as he kicks off his rubber boots.

‘That’s lovely,’ Aurora says. ‘We’ll make jam after we’ve eaten.’

On the table is a large bowl with strawberries, a bottle of milk, a sugar bowl, and bowls and spoons for everyone. Declan takes the strawberry bowl and starts putting some into his bowl. He passes it on to Adam and asks for the sugar.

‘You put sugar and milk on?’ Adam asks Ronan.

‘Yes,’ Ronan says. ‘You’ve never had it? It’s really good!’

‘No,’ Adam says slowly, picking up the spoon in the strawberry bowl and beginning to put strawberries into his bowl. ‘Sounds good.’

‘It is,’ Declan says, mouth full, milk spilling out.

‘Don’t talk with food in your mouth,’ Aurora says to him as Adam passes the bowl onto Ronan. He pours milk over the berries, then sugar, and then experimentally puts one into his mouth. ‘You’re right,’ he says, grinning at Ronan. ‘It’s really good.’

‘I’m always right,’ Ronan says, smiling back at Adam.

‘Untrue,’ Adam laughs, scooping up another strawberry.

‘I want strawberries,’ Matthew says, glaring at Ronan who’s still holding onto the bowl. ‘You’re _slow_ , stop looking at Adam.’

‘I wasn’t–’ Ronan says, quickly passing on the bowl. He looks down and focuses on his strawberries.

‘You were,’ Matthew says, putting a berry in his mouth. ‘You always are.’

Ronan stares hard at his bowl of strawberries and he’s _not_ blushing. He’s not.

  
They make jam. Matthew ends up sticky everywhere; not even just his hands but his arms and face as well.

Ronan and Adam weighing out sugar, Ronan standing watch over the pot, waiting for it to boil.

Aurora shows Adam how to scrape seeds from a vanilla bean and he feels proud when he succeeds.

They’re given a stack of labels and a pen each and then they have to write STRAWBERRY JAM on them. They’re free to decorate them as they wish so Ronan ends up with a concentrated look on his face, drawing tiny strawberries and flowers and suns. Adam’s looking at the tiny masterpieces Ronan creates. Ronan’s a good artist.

Then, the jam’s ready and Aurora asks if they want to taste it. Matthew yells YES as loud as he can and claps his hands together, smiling widely. Ronan and Adam look at each other, then back at Aurora. They’re smiling almost as big as Matthew.

Aurora opens the cabinet and gets out homemade bread. She puts glasses and plates on the table and takes a bottle of apple juice out of the fridge.

‘Are you ready?’ she asks, because they’re all just sitting patiently awaiting, staring at the Mason jar on the middle of the table.

‘Yes,’ Matthew says, not taking his eyes away from the jam.

‘Adam, you can go first.’

Adam goes first. He doesn’t take a bite before Ronan has a piece of bread ready as well though.

‘On three?’ he asks, looking at him.

‘One,’ Ronan says and Adam starts counting too.

‘Two… three…’ and they both bite into the bread and moan around it.

‘This is so _good_ ,’ Adam says, staring at Aurora.

‘You made it, love,’ she smiles, taking a bite of her own bread.

‘We made this,’ Ronan says, looking at Adam. ‘High-five!’

Adam brings his hand up and claps it against Ronan’s. ‘We rock,’ he says.

 

* * *

 

Niall comes back home.

‘So, boys,’ he says that night at dinner. ‘Remember what we talked about before I left?’

‘You said you’d teach us to box,’ Declan says, eyes lighting up in excitement.

‘You still up for that?’ Niall asks, looking from his oldest son to Ronan. Ronan nods at him. ‘Sure,’ he says.

‘Can I box?’ Matthew asks, slamming his hands down on the table, which gains him a sharp look from his mom.

‘Sure thing,’ Niall says, smiling at him. Matthew stares, and stares, and stares at him, smiling. He looks over at his mom. ‘I can box,’ he says. Aurora smiles at him. ‘Yes, love.’

Matthew looks over at Ronan. ‘I’m going to beat you,’ he says, then returns his attention to his food.

Ronan’s mind is elsewhere anyway.

  
‘Dad says he’s going to teach us to fight,’ Ronan says the next day when Adam shows up. ‘Do you want to—I mean, I was thinking—it could be good, you know? If you could defend yourself.’

Adam’s mouth drops open and he just looks at Ronan. ‘No,’ he says then. ‘No, I–’

‘Why not?’ Ronan says and he looks hopelessly confused. He really does not understand why Adam _wouldn’t_ —why he’d _not_ want to learn how to defend himself. ‘You could–’ he doesn’t know how to say what he’s thinking, how to phrase it, so he just stops, hopes Adam gets it.

‘I’m–’ Adam says, closing his eyes. He slowly counts to three inside his head. ‘I’m scared it’s going to—what if I’m like him?’ he asks, opening his eyes. He looks helpless. ‘I don’t want to—if it brings something out in me, if I–’

Ronan mouth drops open and it’s his turn to just look at Adam. ‘Adam,’ he breathes out. ‘You can’t think—you’re _not_ –’ he doesn’t know what to say. Does Adam think he’s like _his dad_? How can he think that? Adam – Ronan’s Adam – the sweetest, most gentle person alive—who reads books aloud and pets Dream and never, never hurts _anyone_ , how can he—‘You’re not like him,’ Ronan says slowly.

‘I don’t want to be,’ Adam says shakily. ‘But I don’t—what if it–?’

‘It’s OK,’ Ronan says. ‘You don’t have to.’

‘Thank you,’ Adam says, giving Ronan a small smile.

Ronan smiles back, grabs his hand, and pulls him with him out in the garden where Niall’s standing with Declan and Matthew. Matthew is sitting on the ground trying to put on a pair of boxing gloves at least four sizes too large.

Adam sits down on the grass and plucks a dandelion. He blows the puff and looks at the three Lynch brothers standing by their dad.

‘Okay,’ Niall says. ‘You have to spread your legs apart, left one a little more forward than the other. Never put your thumb inside your fist, it’ll break.’

He keeps talking and jumps around correcting his kids’ postures. ‘Bend your knees a bit,’ he says and Ronan does.

Matthew is standing up as well, but he’s clearly too young to really _get_ it.

‘Want to try, Adam?’ Niall says suddenly and Adam feels his entire body tense. ‘N-no, sir. Thank you.’

‘Come on, it’ll be okay!’ Niall says, smiling at him. ‘Come here, I’ll show you.’

‘Dad!’ Ronan says loudly, he’s dropped his hands and he’s standing regularly. ‘He said no. Leave him alone.’

‘Jesus, Ronan,’ Niall says, looking back at his middle son. ‘Okay, kid, just thought it might be useful at some point.’

It feels like Adam’s heart is jumping out of his ribcage, like his entire body is breaking open. ‘Why—why would it be useful?’ he stutters out, his mind racing: does he know, does he know, does he know, did Ronan tell, oh God, does he know? _Does he know_?

‘Everyone gets into disagreements at some point,’ Niall says and winks at him.

OK, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. It’s fine, it’s all right, nothing’s wrong, it’s _fine_. He doesn’t know. Ronan didn’t tell.

Niall returns his attention to his kids. ‘If you launch yourself forward without control, your momentum will carry you and you'll fall,’ he instructs and Adam zones out, stops listening to what they’re saying.

It had been so _close_. He’d been so— _transparent_ , if Niall had looked at him just another _second_ he would’ve realised, Adam’s sure.

But everything is OK – Niall didn’t realise, he doesn’t know, it’s fine, it’s all right, he’s _safe_. He looks up again, looks at Ronan throwing a punch and he flinches.

He’s at least three metres away and it’s _Ronan_ and Adam still flinches. Why is he so _transparent_?

Ronan looks over at Adam and smiles at him and Adam smiles back. It’s OK. He’s safe; nothing’s going to happen. He’s not his dad.

  
‘You can practice on me if you want,’ Ronan says softly a couple of weeks later when they’re lying on the grass outside. ‘Or just with the punching bag dad got us.’

‘No, it’s–’ Adam says, trying not to let his whole body tense up. He’s so afraid of hurting Ronan he can’t even imagine doing it.

Really, he doesn’t get why people are into boxing as a sport. Why people _enjoy_ punching someone, _hurting_ someone—why people enjoy _being_ hurt. He knows it’s not really the same thing – boxers actively choose it, they can quit, it’s _different_ than his dad but still—why would _anyone_ –?

‘It’s OK,’ Ronan says, turning his head and smiling up at Adam. ‘You don’t have to. It was just if you wanted.’

‘Thank you,’ Adam says, smiling back at him. ‘I’d really—I’d rather not, I don’t—I’m sorry.’

‘You don’t have to apologise,’ Ronan says. ‘It’s OK.’

 

* * *

 

It’s already late August and Ronan isn’t happy about going back to school.

‘It’s _torture_ ,’ he says, slamming his head into the wall of the tree house they’re sitting in. ‘I don’t get why we have to go.’

‘It’s to learn things,’ Adam says, looking at Ronan with an expression of half confusion and half concern. ‘Take care you don’t break your head,’ he says.

‘What if that’s my plan?’ Ronan says, not opening his eyes.

‘Is it really that bad?’ Adam says quietly and Ronan looks over at him.

‘I hate it,’ he says, lying down. ‘And not just—like, I’d rather be outside, you know? And I’d rather be with you, or play Nintendo, or do _other_ things but also—I can’t _concentrate_ on the things? And I feel so _useless_.’

‘You’re not useless,’ Adam says, lying down beside Ronan. They look up at the ceiling of the tree house. Adam takes Ronan’s hand. ‘You’re not useless.’

‘Feels like it,’ Ronan says, squeezing his eyes shut again. ‘I don’t know how to do _math_.’

‘Math isn’t life,’ Adam says, rolling over on his side and looking at Ronan; his closed eyes, sharp jaw. ‘You’re good at millions of things and it’s not like you won’t be able to live without math. I’ll help you—if you want me to.’

Ronan opens his eyes and looks over at Adam. ‘What when I’m 30 and old and still don’t know how to do multiplication?’

‘I’ll help you,’ Adam says solemnly, reaching out his hand and beginning to trace a pattern on Ronan’s chest. ‘It’s OK not to excel at everything,’ he says and he feels hypocritical because he _has_ to excel at everything—nothing below perfection is good enough, but that’s because he’s worthless and being good at everything might make up for his existence. How he’s a waste of space but maybe it’s a little more tolerable if he then at least doesn’t make mistakes.

Ronan, on the other hand, is _wonderful_. ‘You’re the best person,’ Adam says, tracing his fingers over Ronan’s shirt in patterns that don’t make much sense.

Ronan feels Adam’s fingers on him and he freezes. He doesn’t hear what Adam says; he’s focusing: _don’t move, don’t move, don’t move_. If he moves, he’ll blow it; he’ll ruin it. Stay still, he thinks.

He can _feel_ his cheeks heating up but he tries to will it away; keep his eyes closed and stays _still_.

Adam realises what he’s doing and he blushes instantly. He pulls his hand away and lies down flat on his back again, not looking at Ronan. Ronan isn’t looking at him either.

He breathes out for a second. He still doesn’t look over at Ronan. ‘I’ll help you if you want,’ he says then in a quiet voice. ‘It’s going to be all right.’

‘Thanks,’ Ronan says, not opening his eyes. His heart still isn’t beating quite right. ‘I still have you though. You’re still going to come over so it’s OK. It’s OK.’

‘Good,’ Adam says, finally rolling over and looking at Ronan. ‘I’m going to come over as long as you want me to.’

‘I will always want you to,’ Ronan says.

 

* * *

 

They fall into a lake. They were both on Ronan’s bike, driving around in a part of the woods they hadn’t explored before. Then, out of nowhere, there was a lake in front of them and they were driving so fast they didn’t manage to stop the bike before they crashed into it.

‘Holy shit,’ Ronan screams as he feels the water soak through his clothes, turning heavy, cold, _freezing_. ‘I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die,’ he gasps, threading water.

Adam isn’t saying anything. His eyes are scrunched up and he’s focusing on getting out. Slowly, he paddles towards the shore and he gets out.

‘You can do it,’ he gets out between heaves of catching his breath. He looks into the lake, sees Ronan in the middle of it, and then the panic kicks in. _Oh no_ —he isn’t going to—isn’t he? ‘You can’t die!’ Adam screams before he’s able to stop or think about what he’s saying. ‘You can’t die.’

Ronan sees the panic in Adam’s eyes and something kicks in—he isn’t going to die. He shuts up, stops wasting breath on screaming nonsense, and focuses on swimming instead. He knows how to swim. Really, this isn’t that awful of a situation.

He gets up and he throws himself on the ground. He looks over at Adam, smiles at him, then drops his eyes shut and just tries to catch his breath for a second.

They’re both shaking—the cold clothes suffocatingly heavy around them.

‘We have to–’ Adam gasps, moving over to Ronan, taking one of his hands between his own and trying to warm it. ‘Have to—get home—warmth—clothes,’ he stutters out, teeth chattering.

Ronan sits up, looks at Adam, nods.

They try to bike but Ronan’s legs are shaking too much for it to work. Ronan throws the bike but Adam says they can’t abandon it, so he wheels it all the way to the Barns.

When they finally get there, they’re still both shaking and their skin is almost blue.

They don’t knock on the door; Ronan pushes it open and hurries inside, calling for his mom while he throws his jacket on the floor.

Aurora gets there and as soon as she sees the state of their clothes she starts pulling at it.

‘You need to get out of these,’ she says, pulling at Ronan’s shirt. ‘What were you _doing_?’

‘Fell into a lake,’ Adam says, shuffling out of his shoes. Everything’s wet—what if it can’t take it? How is he going to explain ruined shoes?

‘Were riding my bike,’ Ronan says and it’s not easily comprehensible—the sound of his teeth chattering loud and drowning out the words. He’s getting out of his pants, his fingers shaking when he tries to unbutton them. Aurora reaches her hands out and unbuttons them for him and he breathes out a quiet _thanks_ before kicking them off.

‘I’m so cold,’ he says, running his hands over his arms. He looks over at Adam who’s shaking just as much.

‘You have to get into dry clothes,’ Aurora says. ‘Adam, you can borrow some of Ronan’s.’

‘Thank you,’ Adam says and Ronan grips his hand and pulls him with him into his room. His legs are shaking.

Ronan gets out two pair of sweatpants and two home-knitted sweaters. He gives Adam one set. ‘Here,’ he says.

Half an hour later they’re sitting by the fireplace in dry clothing, wrapped in many blankets, with a cup of hot chocolate each.

They’re a bit more heated up, their bodies not shaking anymore.

‘I’m sorry,’ Ronan says, looking at Adam. ‘I didn’t stop in time.’

‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Adam says. ‘Besides, this is kind of nice.’

‘You like wearing my clothes?’ Ronan says, smirking at Adam. ‘You could’ve asked.’

‘ _No_ ,’ Adam says, blushing, even though— ‘I meant _this_ ,’ he gestures with one hand in front of them, ‘blankets and hot chocolate and being warm.’ And so what if Ronan’s clothes are nice as well?

‘We should make a blanket fort,’ Ronan says, putting his lips to his cup.

‘I don’t want to move,’ Adam says in a tired voice.

Ronan closes his eyes and hums softly; an old Irish lullaby his mom used to sing when he was younger.

Adam lets himself look at him – he can’t see with closed eyes, it’s OK. Then, he closes his own eyes and just listens to Ronan’s voice. It’s calm, soothing, _nice_. Maybe crashing into that lake wasn’t the worst thing that could happen?

  
The next morning, Adam feels like he’s dying. Legitimately _dying_. He can’t breathe normally, his eyes keep watering, his nose is stuffed, he’s— _sick_ , really. That’s what he is.

He knows you’re not supposed to go to school when you’re sick – partly to get well quicker and partly to not infect anyone else. Often, someone’s missing in class and the teachers say they’ve talked with the student’s parents and they’re sick.

Adam knows his parents won’t let him stay home – if he was _actually_ dying, they wouldn’t let him stay home.

So without saying anything, keeping his eyes down, he packs his things, gets dressed, and goes outside. It’s _cold_. He’s wearing a jacket but even that can’t keep the cold out—or maybe it’s not really cold and it’s just him.

He gets on his bike, his hands freezing on the handlebars, teeth clattering, and he starts biking. When he gets to the Barns, he stops, wraps his arms around himself and tries to get warm. He looks at the house as the little girl with the matches looks into the flame; with hunger, yearning, longing. He’s tired and cold and alone and he just wants to sleep for a decade, curl up under a blanket and not exist for some hours.

Aurora Lynch is standing in the kitchen, making chamomile tea for her middle son who’s lying in his bed, whining about being ill – “my throat is on _fire_ , mom!”

She looks out the window and she sees a young boy on a bike. Adam. What is he _doing_ here–? If Ronan’s state is anything to go by, Adam must not be feeling well enough to go school.

She flies out the door, calling his name. He turns around and for a second he looks—scared?

‘Adam,’ she says again, closer now. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘On my way to school, ma’am,’ he says, sniffling.

‘What?’ Aurora says, scrutinizing him. ‘You’re not going anywhere like this. You’re _sick_. Come inside.’

‘But–’ Adam begins, coughing. ‘I have to g–’

‘You are not going anywhere,’ Aurora repeats. ‘Come on inside. I’m making tea.’

Adam looks up at her, eyes huge and wide and shocked. ‘But what abo–’

‘Adam, love,’ she says. ‘You’re very sick right now. When you’re very sick, you need to focus on getting better and not school. It’ll be OK. Come on inside with me.’ She smiles at him, big and warm and _mom-like_.

Adam’s insides melt and he wants to cry. ‘Thank you,’ he says, sniffling once more. He gets off his bike and follows Ronan’s mom inside.

He shuffles out of his shoes and jackets and Aurora tells him to go into Ronan’s room. ‘He has an extra pyjamas you can borrow,’ she says and Adam stares at her, then runs into Ronan’s room.

Ronan’s in his bed, covered in blankets. ‘Mom?’ a muffled voice says from under the mountain.

‘No,’ Adam says, and coughs. ‘It’s Adam. Your mom said you had an extra pyjamas.’

Ronan rips all the covers off and sits up. ‘Adam?’ he says and looks at him like he’s trying to figure out if he’s really there. ‘Is this a dream?’

‘No,’ Adam says, looking at Ronan in confusion. ‘Why would you dream about me being in your room?’

Ronan lies down again and brings the covers over his head. ‘Pyjamas are in the bottom shelf.’

Adam gets out a set and quickly changes into it. Then he stands awkwardly in the middle of room, wondering what he should do with himself. Should he–?

Aurora comes in with a tray with cups of tea. ‘Crawl into bed, sweetie,’ she says and Adam doesn’t know what to reply so he just does as he tells him.

He crawls under the covers and is instantly embraced by the sheer _heat_ of it. Ronan is a _furnace_ ; burning.

‘Hey,’ he whispers, smiling at Ronan. Ronan smiles back. ‘Hey,’ he says.

‘Sit up,’ Aurora says. ‘There’s tea.’

They shuffle out from under the covers; relocate so they’re sitting up, but still covered by the blankets. Adam’s nose is red and his hair is mussed. Ronan is thrown into a coughing fit.

‘Here,’ Aurora says, handing each of them a cup. ‘You really outdid yourself with that lake, didn’t you?’

‘ _Mom_ ,’ Ronan says and maybe it’s meant to sound scary, scolding—but it doesn’t.

Aurora smiles at the both of them.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever felt so _bad_ ,’ Ronan whines, his voice low and almost not there. He looks over at Adam. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It wasn’t your–’ Adam says and sneezes, ‘fault,’ he finishes, bringing his cup of tea to his lips.

After they’ve finished their tea, Aurora tells them to crawl back under the covers and go to sleep.

They do as she says; crawls under the covers and subconsciously curl into each other – blame it on the fever delirium; Adam’s foot hooked under Ronan’s ankle, Ronan’s arm fingers curled loosely around Adam’s wrist.

  
They’re in bed all day. They don’t do anything besides sleep and drink the tea and eat the soup Aurora brings.

There are three empty boxes of Kleenex and lots of tissues scattered around on the floor.

Ronan thinks Adam looks extremely cute; messy hair, glassy eyes, red nose. He wants to peck it. Then he wants to set himself on fire, he promised himself not to think about this. _Stop thinking about this._ He focuses on other things; he puts his ice cold feet against Adam’s calves and laughs as he squirms, he takes another cough drop—they taste like honey and lemon and he can’t stop thinking about how Adam has eaten a lot as well and so he probably tastes like— _stop_. Don’t go there, Ronan.

Don’t go there.

He wraps the blanket around his head and falls asleep again, feet still pressed against Adam’s legs.

 

* * *

 

Before Adam met Ronan, he spent most of his time in the local library. That’s still where he is most days when he isn’t at the Barns.

He found his first home among the shelves of books.

He’d never really felt _home_ – but there, in the library, he thinks he felt it. Now, he also feels it at the Barns, and if it’s possible for home to be a person he also feels it with Ronan.

The staff knows him by name – his favourite librarian is Karen, she’s rather old, has white hair and glasses. She’s always wearing at least three necklaces, and sometimes two pairs of glasses. Often, she has books ready for when Adam comes in. ‘Adam,’ she’ll say, smiling as she sees him. ‘I have this book I think you’ll like,’ and he’ll rush over to her, and she’ll hand him a book about dragons, or mysteries, or superheroes, which Adam will read and love and talk with her about later. ‘I really liked it,’ he’ll say. ‘My favourite part was that when—’ And Karen will smiles, and Adam will smile back, and it’ll feel like _safety_.

One day, he takes Ronan. The library isn’t just—it’s _home_ , but it’s also so much more; it’s the first place he felt remotely safe, a sanctuary. And he wants to share that with his best friend.

‘Do you want to visit the library with me?’ Adam asks in a quiet voice – prepared for rejection. Ronan looks at him, soft. ‘Yes,’ he says and smiles at him.

‘Let’s go,’ Adam says, smiling as well.

They get their jackets, jump on their bikes, and off they go.

Adam holds his breath as he steps in, reverent, holy. He thinks this must be how Ronan feels about church.

He takes Ronan’s hand and guides him around the library. Greets Karen – ‘hi Karen, this is my best friend, Ronan,’ he says. ‘Hello Ronan,’ Karen smiles, shaking his hand. Adam pulls him further into the magic of this place.

He points out sections, telling where the kids’ books are, where the thrillers are, where the video games are. ‘They have video games?’ Ronan asks in a surprised voice.

‘They do,’ Adam says. ‘Over there are graphic novels and comics,’ he continues, pointing.

He says everything in this soft, reverent voice, awe in his eyes. Ronan keeps looking at him.

‘Do you want to read?’ Adam asks then. ‘You can pick a subject and we can find something about it. What do you want to read about?’

‘Animals,’ Ronan says.

‘Animals,’ Adam repeats, dragging Ronan with him to the right section. ‘What kind of animals?’

‘Wild ones,’ Ronan says, mouth hanging slightly open. ‘Lions. Elephants. Dangerous ones. Punk animals.’

Adam grins for a second, then pulls a couple of books down the shelves. ‘Punk animals,’ he says. ‘Self-projecting?’

‘Yes,’ Ronan says, then: ‘what does that mean?’

‘Means you take parts of yourself and sort of put onto other people and things? But this is probably more a case of you wanting to be really punk and dangerous and hoping to achieve that by reading about those kind of animals.’

‘Wow, _rude_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘I _am_ really punk and dangerous. That’s not self-prowhatever.’

Adam smiles at him, then drops down on the floor. ‘Lions are the second largest cat species in the world,’ Adam begins, Ronan leaning against his shoulder. The comfort of it is—mind-blowing, for both of them.

‘The roar of a lion can be heard from eight kilometres away,’ Adam continues.

‘How long is that?’

‘Five miles,’ Adam says and continues reading.

  
Hours later, Adam jumps up and says they should probably get home.

‘This was nice,’ Ronan says, looking around the library. ‘This place is _cool_.’

‘I know,’ Adam says. ‘It’s my favourite place.’

Ronan looks back and smiles at him.

‘I mean—after yours, of course,’ Adam stutters out hurriedly, looking away. ‘You’re my favourite place.’

‘You’re my favourite place,’ Ronan says quietly, staring at Adam with large eyes. His _best friend_. He thinks he loves Adam. Not exactly like he loves his mom and dad and brothers because that’s—he’s always known them. Always. They have _always_ been there—and he’s never doubted them. Adam is different. Adam is his first _own_ person—he shares mom and dad with Matthew and Dec. He loves Adam in another way than he loves his brothers. Not a better way, or worse way, just _different_.

And Adam—Ronan hopes Adam also loves him.

He doesn’t think Adam has ever been loved by anyone and that doesn’t just break his heart—it makes him _angry_. It makes him want to _fight_. Adam has never had—a _place_. He’s had this library, which is _good_. This library is really, really good, and Ronan is _grateful_ Adam has had at least that but—it’s not the same. It’s not—Ronan’s always had a home, he’s always had a family. And Adam hasn’t.

But he has now. Ronan wants to be that place for Adam. He knows his family is weird and dad is away a lot but they’re still—and Adam said that was his favourite place. His _best friend_ , Ronan thinks. Finally, he feels like he has somewhere.

Finally, someone loves him the way he deserves to be loved.

‘Will you come tomorrow?’ Ronan asks, following Adam’s lead and picking up a book and putting it back on the shelf.

‘I hope so,’ Adam says quietly, turning around from the shelf and smiling at Ronan.

‘We’ll probably have to do homework,’ Ronan says, pulling a face. ‘Not that I want to.’

‘We can help each other,’ Adam smiles.

 

* * *

 

‘Do you want to learn Irish?’ Ronan says one day. ‘I can teach you some.’

‘Yeah,’ Adam says, looking over at him. That could be cool.

‘Go dtachta an diabhal thú,’ Ronan says slowly, pronouncing each word carefully.

‘Go dtachta an diabhal thú,’ Adam repeats, even slower. He stumbles over the letters and Ronan laughs at him. ‘No,’ he says. ‘Try again. Go dtachta an diabhal thú.’

Adam tries again.

After a couple of tries, he gets it right. ‘What does it mean?’ he asks.

‘May the devil choke you,’ Ronan says and his face lights up in a smile, then he starts laughing.

Adam stares at him. ‘I’m not even surprised,’ he says, but there’s a smile hidden in his voice. ‘Teach me something more?’

‘Dúil mo bod,’ Ronan says.

‘Dúil,’ Adam says. ‘Mo bod.’

‘Almost,’ Ronan says, correcting Adam’s mistake. Adam tries again and gets it right. ‘What does this mean then?’

‘I’m not telling,’ Ronan says.

‘You have to!’ Adam says. ‘You can’t just teach me Irish and not tell me what I’m learning.’

‘Watch me, loser,’ Ronan says. ‘Is cuma liom sa diabhal.’

‘Go dtachta an diabhal thú,’ Adam says, his voice bearing no trace of accent or nerves; no evidence he’s _just_ learned the phrase.

Ronan flashes a wicked grin at him and throws his head back in laughter.

‘How many Irish swear words do you know?’ Adam asks, curious.

‘All of them,’ Ronan laughs.

Adam looks at him, then laughs. ‘Still not surprised.’

‘Can also swear in Danish, Norwegian, French, Spanish, and Russian.’

‘ _Why_?’ Adam asks. ‘ _How_?’

‘Looked it up,’ Ronan says. ‘Asked dad. It’s vital info.’

‘How’d you swear in Danish?’ Adam asks. ‘Who even _speaks_ Danish?’

‘Danish people,’ Ronan says. ‘I don’t. I just know how to swear in it.’

‘I’m waiting,’ Adam says.

‘Æd lort,’ Ronan says.

‘I don’t know what that means,’ Adam says.

‘I’m not going to tell you,’ Ronan says. ‘Also, I didn’t mean it.’

‘Thanks?’ Adam says unsurely.

‘No problem,’ Ronan says. ‘Du er min bedste ven.’

‘I don’t know what that means either,’ Adam says, rolling his eyes.

‘I know,’ Ronan says softly.


	5. Twelve years old

‘Wanna hear a joke?’ Ronan asks, smile playing on his lips, already bubbling over with excitement.

‘Sure,’ Adam says, looking up at Ronan.

‘What’s that lying under the couch saying woof?’ he asks, unable to conceal his smile.

‘I don’t know,’ Adam says. ‘A dog?’

‘A slipper,’ Ronan says. ‘The part about saying woof was just to make it harder.’

Adam stares at him, then he falls over laughing. Ronan laughs as well, loud and wild and booming.

‘That was–’ Adam chokes out, gasping for breath. ‘ _Terrible_.’

Ronan smiles at him, softly wiping away tears. ‘Want to hear another?’

‘Sure,’ Adam says, grinning back.

‘Where does the light go when it’s dark?’

Adam scrunches up his eyebrows in concentration; looks at Ronan. ‘I don’t know,’ he says then.

‘Into the fridge,’ Ronan says and starts laughing again. It’s infectious and Adam can’t help laughing as well. They end up lying on the floor, both gasping for breath, stomachs hurting.

‘Your jokes are the worst,’ Adam says at some point when they’re both too breathless to laugh any more.

‘My jokes are,’ Ronan says. ‘Very similarly to _me_ , the best thing in the world.’ He rolls over and looks at Adam.

Adam bats his shoulder and rolls his eyes. ‘You’re a _loser_.’

_‘Your_ loser,’ Ronan smiles at him.

‘The fridge,’ Adam says, rolling his eyes. ‘A _slipper_.’

And they both bend over laughing again.

 

* * *

 

‘Mom’s going to teach me to knit,’ Ronan says when he opens the door for Adam.

‘Nice,’ Adam says. ‘That sounds cool.’

‘I know,’ Ronan says. ‘I’m excited.’

They walk back into the living room where Aurora is sitting in her green wing chair. ‘Hi love,’ she smiles as she sees Adam.

‘Hi ma’am,’ Adam replies, grinning wide at her. _Love_.

Ronan grabs a small stool and sits down next to his mom. He smiles at Adam, then turns his attention to Aurora.

As she begins to show him how to cast on, Adam sits down on the floor and just quietly looks at them for a while. Aurora’s soft voice instructing Ronan as to how and what to do. Ronan’s scattered sighs as he drops a stitch or can’t quite make it work right.

Adam lets his head drop back against the wall and closes his eyes, just sits there beside the fireplace, listening to Ronan and his mom. Listening to the sound of a maternal relationship. Listening to the sound of what he never had.

  
The next day, Matthew lets him in. ‘Ronan’s knitting,’ he whispers and Adam smiles and nods at him.

Adam follows Matthew into the living room where he finds Ronan sitting alone, eyebrows scrunched up in concentration and focusing deeply on the piece of knitting in his hands.

‘Hi,’ Adam says and Ronan startles, looks up at him. Then he registers who it is and he grins at him. ‘Hey loser,’ he says.

‘What are you knitting?’ Adam asks, dumping down on the floor beside him.

‘A scarf,’ Ronan says, not looking up. ‘Mom says that’s the easiest to start with because it’s just back and forth. But I want to make mittens as the next thing.’

‘That sounds cool,’ Adam says, looking at the bright green yarn in Ronan’s hands. Then he gets an idea. ‘Do you want me to read for you?’ he asks.

Ronan looks up at him and smiles. ‘That’d be awesome,’ he says.

Adam grins back at him and runs to get a book from his backpack.

When back, he smiles one more time at Ronan and settles down on the floor, opening the book. He starts reading, voice soft and honey-like.

Ronan continues knitting.

 

‘Can I me-measure your hands?’ Ronan stutters out a couple of days later when Adam’s sitting on the floor reading. He curses at himself because of the stuttering.

‘Of course,’ Adam says, putting his book down.

Ronan brings up the measuring tape and carefully puts the end at Adam’s finger and rolls it out down his hand. He focuses on the tape and Adam’s hand and the measurements and _doesn’t_ look up to look Adam in the eye.

He finishes measuring and lets go of his hand (it’s soft and he misses holding it). ‘Thank you,’ he says, quickly turning his attention back to his yarn and five knitting needles.

  
Monday, the mittens are finished. They’re the colour of Adam’s eyes and in the softest yarn Aurora had. ‘Do you think he’ll like them?’ Ronan asks his mom and she smiles at him.

‘He’ll adore them, love,’ she says. ‘Is he coming today?’

‘Hope so,’ Ronan says, fidgeting with the knitwear.

‘We can wrap them up if you want to,’ Aurora suggests, carrying on knitting. ‘So it’s more like a present.’

Ronan looks up at him. ‘Nice,’ he says. ‘We have that paper with dinosaurs on. Can we use that?’

‘Of course, sweetie,’ Aurora says, putting down her knitting and getting up from the chair. ‘Let’s go get it.’

Ronan stares at Aurora’s hands as she expertly wraps up the mittens in the dinosaur wrapping-paper.

‘There you go,’ she says, smiling at him as she hands over the present. Ronan grins at her, all teeth, and thanks her. ‘I hope he likes them.’

  
He doesn’t just _like_ them.

 

* * *

 

Matthew is sitting on the yard outside, waiting for Adam to come over. Ronan is sitting beside him, playing with a tennis ball.

‘Can you teach me to ride a bike?’ Matthew says as soon as Adam appears. He’s looking both sceptical and hopeful.

‘Sure,’ Adam says, smiling at him, then looking at Ronan. ‘Hi,’ he says.

‘Cool!’ Matthew says, lighting up at the same time Ronan says, ‘hey.’

‘Ronan couldn’t teach you?’ Adam asks. ‘Not that I don’t want to. I want to.’

‘Ronan’s a loser,’ Matthew says, grinning at Adam. Then not a second later he turns his head and looks at his big brother. ‘I’m sorry I called you a loser,’ he says. ‘You’re not really.’

‘Thanks,’ Ronan says, grinning while he shakes his head slowly. ‘It’s OK. Adam calls me a loser all the time.’

‘I know,’ Matthew says solemnly. ‘He doesn’t mean it either. He looks at you like he likes you, so. I don’t think he thinks you’re a loser.’

Adam is thinking about how he wouldn’t mind if the earth suddenly decided to open up wide and swallow him whole. He tries not to blush.

Ronan blushes when Matthew says Adam likes him, so he just keeps his eyes on his little brother, afraid he’ll blow everything if he looks at his friend.

‘You’re wrong,’ Adam says in a light tone. ‘I really think Ronan’s a loser.’

‘Why are you smiling then?’ Matthew asks, scrunching up his eyebrows in confusion. ‘You think he’s a loser but you still like him? Do you like losers, Adam? Can I also be a loser?’

‘Nah,’ Adam says. ‘You’re a winner, Matthew.’

Matthew grins up at him. Then he looks at Ronan. ‘You heard that?’ he asks. ‘Adam says I’m a winner.’

‘Adam doesn’t know shit,’ Ronan says. ‘But just this once, he’s right. You’re a winner, Matthew.’

Matthew stares at him with wide eyes. ‘Mom says you shouldn’t say that word.’

‘ _Shit_ ,’ Ronan repeats, smirking as he sees Adam bite down a laugh. ‘Fucking _shit_.’

‘Sh–’ Matthew begins, but then quickly closes his mouth, shaking his head slowly. He looks up at Ronan in awe. ‘I can’t say it,’ he breathes out in wonder.

‘Sure you can,’ Ronan says and Adam’s smirk doesn’t escape him. ‘Say it with me. _Shit_.’

‘Shi–’ Matthew says, getting a little further than before but still not finishing the word. He looks at his brother. ‘How do you do it?’

‘It’s because he’s a loser,’ Adam says, trying not to laugh.

‘Mom says swearing isn’t nice,’ Matthew says sincerely, looking up at Adam.

‘Mom doesn’t know shit either,’ Ronan says, throwing the ball from his left to right hand. Matthew gasps. ‘ _Ronan_.’

‘ _Matthew_ ,’ Ronan repeats in a mock-offended tone. ‘Come on, say it. Say it. _Say it_.’

‘Stop,’ Matthew says, trying to give Ronan one of those “if looks could kill” looks but not really succeeding. ‘Tell him to stop,’ he says, looking at Adam.

Adam quickly adopts a serious face, masking how he’d been laughing just a second before. ‘Ronan,’ he says seriously. There’s an edge to his voice revealing how he’s just about to collapse in laughter but the only person able to hear it is Ronan. He smirks up at him as Adam continues talking. ‘Stop teaching your little brother to say shit.’

‘Suck,’ Ronan says, ‘my dick.’ He grins at him and Adam can’t hold in the laughter anymore. He sits down on the grass, wiping away tears.

Matthew stares at Ronan in half admiration and half fear. Then he rolls over laughing as well, maybe not fully realising _why_ but he knows both Ronan and Adam are tearing up so soon he is too.

  
‘Ready for this?’ Adam says about half an hour later when Matthew is sitting on his bike and Adam has a broom wedged under the saddle.

Matthew looks back at him over his shoulder. ‘I’m ready,’ he says, seriously. He’s wearing his helmet and a serious expression on his face.

‘Okay,’ Adam says. ‘Start pedalling.’

Matthew does, squealing loudly as the bike starts moving. Adam runs after him, keeping it balanced with the broom, and shouting encouragements.

‘I’m doing it,’ Matthew screams, hitting the pedals. ‘I’m flying.’

Then he crashes.

‘I’m sorry,’ Adam gasps out, breathless from the running. ‘I’m sorry, are you OK?’

‘I’m GREAT!’ Matthew laughs. ‘I can _bike_!’

‘Well, almost,’ Adam says. ‘Let’s try again.’

Still laughing softly, they get up again.

Ronan’s still sitting on the grass, playing with his ball, and watching them. Driving back and forth on the street, Matthew screaming in joy, Adam running after the bike and cheering. Both of them laughing, happy – and the sun, and everything looking _beautiful_ , and Ronan kind of wants to set himself on fire.

 

* * *

 

It’s the fourth of July and school is out. Adam flees out of his house early in the morning because his parents’ friends are there and it’s not good. For a second, he’s reminded of the Baudelaire children and Count Olaf’s theatre group.

(Like always, his parents hadn’t acknowledged his birthday the day before. But they’re going to celebrate the American Independence Day and – well, that day is all about freedom. The day before is an all too tangible reminder of the _opposite_ – Adam is the opposite.)

He goes to the Lynches because he doesn’t know where else to go.

Ronan is in the kitchen with Matthew and Aurora, baking.

‘Hi Adam,’ he says as he sees him. ‘Happy fourth of July.’

‘Happy fourth of July,’ Adam smiles back. ‘Do you celebrate that?’

‘Yeah,’ Ronan says, bouncing on his feet. ‘Dad would never pass an opportunity for barbecues and fireworks.’

‘So you have plans?’ Adam says, hesitant. He should go. He really should.

‘Yes,’ Matthew says, turning around on the chair he’s standing on. ‘Do you want to come with us?’

Aurora looks over at Adam, sensing his unease. ‘Do you want to come with us, love?’ she asks. ‘We’d love to have you joining us if your family doesn’t have plans.’

‘Do you?’ Ronan repeats. ‘There’ll be the parade and lots of food and weird patriotism and _fireworks_.’

‘Fancy word,’ Adam grins. ‘Are you sure it’s OK?’ he continues, looking at Aurora.

‘Absolutely,’ Aurora says. ‘It’ll be lovely.’

‘Thank you,’ Adam says. ‘I’d love to.’

‘Fantastic,’ she smiles, and turns around to whisk eggs.

‘What’re you baking?’ Adam asks and Ronan is quick to reply. ‘Cupcakes,’ he says. ‘Some with the American flag and some with the Irish just because.’

‘We’re Irish,’ Matthew says matter-of-factly, looking sternly at Adam.

‘I know,’ Adam says, looking just as sincere.

‘Good,’ Matthew says, turning his attention back to his mom.

  
They go to a big city and true to Ronan’s word, there’s a parade and lots of food and weird patriotism and _fireworks_.

The party is in an empty lot full of grass and barbecues and Niall and Aurora’s friends. It’s loud and there are lots of people – everyone is laughing and dancing and grilling sausages and drinking beer. They’re smiling and hugging and Matthew is playing tag with a bunch of other kids his age, grinning and stumbling and falling over.

The parade is _amazing_. ‘This is so cool,’ Adam says, and has to repeat it in an almost-scream in order for Ronan to be able to hear. He grins back at him, and nods, ‘I know!’

Other of the people had brought desserts as well; stars and stripes cakes and muffins, pies with strawberries, blueberries, and whipped cream, lots of different things.

Everyone eats till they’re bursting.

There are sparklers, too. Matthew runs around, swinging them everywhere and leaving patterns in the air. He spells out an “M.” ‘That’s for Matthew,’ he says. ‘And mom.’

‘You’re such a mama’s boy,’ Declan laughs, hugging him.

‘Yes,’ Matthew says, smiling at Aurora. ‘I love mom.’

‘I love you too, sweetheart,’ she says, going to join Matthew and Declan’s hug.

Then, the fireworks begin. Adam drags Ronan with him to a quieter place so they can actually hear what the other’s saying.

They lie down on their backs on the grass and just look at the sky and the fireworks. ‘This is so pretty,’ Adam says and it’s almost in a whisper. He looks over at Ronan. ‘Happy fourth of July.’

‘Happy fourth of July,’ Ronan replies, smiling back at him.

Adam turns his head back and looks at the sky again. He shyly reaches out and laces his fingers with Ronan’s, not looking away from the sky. His heart is thumping loudly in his chest, drowning out the sound of the fireworks going off: is this all right, is this all right, is this all right?

Then, Ronan closes his fingers around Adam’s and squeezes tight. He doesn’t look away from the sky either.

His heart is thumping loud and wild as well and he can feel his entire face heating up. Adam just took his hand. _God_ , he’s missed holding Adam’s hand.

He runs his thumb slowly over Adam’s palm and he swears he’s going to go into cardiac arrest when he feels Adam squeezing his hand back.

‘Happy late birthday,’ he says quietly, looking over at Adam. Adam looks back at him and smiles, bright, clear. ‘Thank you,’ he says.

 

* * *

 

‘I want to go to an amusement park,’ Matthew says one day, stomping both legs and sitting down on the middle of the floor.

‘Where did this come from, love?’ Aurora says, moving swiftly around him to put on the coffeemaker. ‘And please can you sit somewhere else?’

‘Am not moving till we go to an amusement park,’ Matthew says matter-of-factly, crossing his arms. ‘I want to!’

‘Well, that’s constructive,’ Niall says from where he’s sitting at the chair. ‘Where did this idea come from?’ he asks.

‘They always go in the cartoons,’ Matthew says and he tries to look intimidating. He looks more like an angel than anything else; blonde curls and dimples. ‘I also want to go!’

‘We got that,’ Aurora smiles at him. ‘You want to go to an amusement park.’

‘Yes,’ Matthew says. ‘I want to go to an amusement park.’

‘And you’re not moving unless we go to an amusement park?’

‘That’s right,’ he says, grinning widely because it sounds like she _gets_ it and it sounds like he’s going to get his way.

‘We better find out if there are any amusement parks near use then,’ Niall says.

‘There’s that one over—what’s the place called again, dear?’ Aurora says, squinting her eyes and looking at her husband. ‘It’s about an hours drive, over the highway.’

‘With the bridge?’ Niall asks and Aurora nods at him.

‘Yeah, we can go there,’ Niall says and Matthew lights up, grinning wide at his parents.

‘In the _weekend_ ,’ Aurora says and the light disappears from Matthew’s face as soon as it had appeared.

‘It’s closed now,’ Aurora explains. ‘And you want to spend a whole day there anyway, right?’

‘ _Obviously_ ,’ Matthew says, pretending this is what he had planned from the beginning. ‘Good.’

‘So you’re going to move now?’ Aurora says.

Matthew looks to be considering it for a while. ‘I suppose so,’ he says, stumbling over the word he’s picked up from Ronan, who’s picked it up from Adam. Aurora and Niall smile at him.

‘You could go tell your brothers,’ Niall suggests nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair. Matthew jumps up immediately, turning his head quickly between his mom and dad. ‘Ronan!’ he screams then, running towards the living room. ‘Declan!’

‘Ronan, Ronan, Ronan,’ he stutters out, bouncing on his feet.

‘Yes,’ Ronan says, not looking away from the TV where he’s playing Donkey Kong against Declan. He looks to be losing.

‘Look at me,’ Matthew demands. ‘Both of you.’

‘All _right_ ,’ Declan says, pausing the game and looking at his youngest little brother. ‘What’s up?’

Matthew beams at the both of them, looking proud and accomplished. ‘We’re going to an amusement park in the weekend!’ Then he runs towards them and wraps his arms around Ronan. ‘Aren’t you excited?’ he says.

‘That sounds _cool_ ,’ Ronan says, hugging Matthew back. They both look up at Declan. ‘That’s _awesome_ ,’ he says, hugging the both of them. ‘I’ll try all the _sick rides_ and it’ll be _extreme_!’

‘I _know_ ,’ Matthew says, clapping his hands. ‘I’m so excited!’ He does a somersault on the couch and grins at his brothers when he sits up.

‘Do you think Adam can come?’ Ronan asks.

‘That’d be _cool_ ,’ Matthew giggles. ‘I’ll beat him in the bumper cars.’

‘You can win him something,’ Declan smirks, punching Ronan’s shoulder.

‘Shut up,’ Ronan says, looking away. ‘He’s not my boyfriend.’

‘Didn’t say he _was_ ,’ Declan laughs, throwing his head back.

‘I hope he can come,’ Matthew says, jumping around the couch. ‘And also we have to talk mom and dad into buying cotton candy and popcorn and soda and ice cream and–’

  
Niall and Aurora both smiled _of course_ when they asked if Adam could come so here they are now, squeezed together in the car and on the way to the amusement park.

‘I’ve never been before,’ Adam muses aloud. ‘Is it cool?’

‘It’s the _coolest_ ,’ Matthew says excitedly, clapping again.

‘You’ve never been before either, love,’ Aurora says, looking at him in the rear-view mirror.

‘I’ve seen it on TV,’ Matthew says. ‘In all the cartoons and movies and things. They always go. This was my idea,’ he adds, looking proudly at Adam. ‘Ronan’s idea to ask you though…’

Declan smirks at his middle brother, who quickly changes the subject. ‘Dec and I have been to a carnival before,’ he says.

‘Yeah, we were really young though,’ Declan says. ‘Do you even remember it?’

‘I remember being better than you,’ Ronan says with no hesitation. ‘But that could easily have been anytime else in my whole life, of course.’

‘Wow,’ Niall says. ‘That’s harsh, Ronan.’

Ronan raises an eyebrow. ‘I’m harsh.’

‘You’re a loser,’ Adam says and rolls his eyes.

‘You know,’ Ronan says, ‘sometimes I think I’m the most underappreciated person in the world.’

Declan rolls his eyes at him.

‘I don’t think you’re underappreciated,’ Matthew says, squinting his eyes. ‘I think you’re cool.’

‘Thank you, Matthew,’ Ronan says. ‘I like you.’

‘I like you too, Ronan,’ Matthew giggles at him.

  
‘I want to try that one!’ Declan screams, pointing at the largest rollercoaster in the park. He looks back at his parents, jumping where he’s standing.

‘Me too,’ Ronan says. ‘Can we try that one?’

‘Sure,’ Aurora says. ‘That’s why we’re here.’

‘You want to try?’ Ronan turns around, looking at Adam.

‘Sure,’ he says.

‘Awesome,’ Declan says. ‘What about you Matthew?’

‘Eh,’ he says hesitantly.

‘I don’t know if he’s tall enough,’ Aurora sweeps in. ‘There are rules about that.’

‘Let’s go,’ Niall says.

The boys run ahead, almost falling over their own feet, laughing.

After standing in line for twenty minutes, it’s their turn. Niall sits behind Adam and beside Declan.

Both Ronan and Dec scream and have their arms in the air the entire time. When they stumble out afterwards they’re all breathless and smiling and happy. ‘That was so _sick_ ,’ Declan says. ‘I want to try again.’

‘Don’t you want to try something else first?’ Niall asks. ‘There’s still twenty minutes queue.’

‘True,’ Declan nods. ‘Let’s see what else this place has to offer.’

  
There are go-karts and bumper cars and Ronan loves both. So does Matthew, gripping Adam’s hand and dragging him with him in line. ‘Do you want to drive with me?’ he asks, looking up at Adam. They’re already standing in line.

‘Of course,’ Adam says.

‘We’ll _destroy_ Ronan and Dec,’ Matthew says confidently.

‘Yes,’ Adam agrees.

Nobody really destroys anyone.

Ronan also wants to try all the wild rollercoasters because he’s hard-core and punk.

‘That one looks scary,’ Matthew says and Adam nods. ‘Yes,’ he says.

Ronan and Declan laugh simultaneously. ‘Nothing is scary for me. I am fearless,’ Ronan says.

‘So am I,’ Declan says. ‘What even _is_ fear? I’ve never felt it.’

Adam rolls his eyes at them. ‘Do you want to go to the games?’ he asks Matthew.

‘Yes,’ Matthew says, jumping on his feet. ‘You _punks_ can go try all the wild stuff and I will go with _Adam_.’ He takes Adam’s hand and tugs. Part of Ronan wants to take Adam’s other hand and go play all the small games with him and maybe do as Declan suggested, even if it was a joke. _Stop_ , he thinks. _Stop thinking about this!_

Niall trails after Adam and Matthew towards the games and Aurora runs with the others to yet another larger rollercoaster.

‘I want to try that,’ Matthew says, pointing at the ring-tossing tent.

‘Let’s do that then,’ Niall says.

Matthew tries but he misses on every throw. ‘This is hard,’ he says. ‘You try, Adam.’

Adam steps forward and the man in the tent hands him the rings. He only misses one throw and Matthew claps and grins at him.

Then Ronan, Declan, and Aurora show up.

‘What are you doing here?’ Niall asks, swiftly kissing Aurora’s cheek. ‘Forty minutes queue,’ she says. ‘They didn’t want to wait.’

‘So you have a fear after all,’ Adam says. ‘Standing in line.’

‘Shut up, loser,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes. ‘That’s not a _fear_. That’s just _boring_.’

‘Whatever you say.’

‘We’ve been throwing rings,’ Matthew says. ‘Adam’s really good at it.’

‘I want to try,’ Declan says, and so he does. He’s better than Matthew, but not as good as Adam.

‘Do you want to try, Ronan?’ Niall asks, and Ronan shakes his head. ‘Nah,’ he says.

‘Then I want to try again,’ Matthew says, and this time he’s a little luckier and one of his rings hit the pole. He throws his arms in the air. ‘I’m so good,’ he screams. ‘Did you see that, dad? I’m almost as good as Adam.’

‘How good are you?’ Ronan asks Adam and Matthew answers. ‘He’s really good.’

‘Win me something,’ Ronan smirks and tries to ignore whatever his shitty heart is doing.

Adam absolutely does not blush at that but he does step forward and grabs the rings. He doesn’t miss any so the man rings a little bell and tells him he’s won and he can choose whatever stuffed toy he wants.

There are a lot. There’s a blue elephant and a parrot and lots of other animals and then he sees a seal. And Ronan had said—it’d been a joke, but still.

‘Can I have the seal?’ he asks and the man smiles at him and tells him _of course_ he can and then he grabs it and hands it over to him.

‘Thank you,’ he says, then turns around and faces Ronan. ‘Here you go,’ he says. ‘Two small seals.’

Ronan doesn’t know what to say. This is—way more than he’d expected or hoped. ‘Thank you,’ he says, holding the stuffed animal tight.

‘I said he was really good,’ Matthew says, holding his mom’s hand.

Ronan avoids everyone’s eyes.

  
Adam keeps staring at the Ferris wheel.

‘Want to try it?’ Ronan asks finally, when Matthew has dragged Declan and Niall with him to get an ice cream. (‘I want the _biggest_ one,’ he’d said, and Niall had smiled and shrugged and agreed because who can say no to Matthew Lynch?)

Adam looks up at Ronan and smiles at him. ‘Yeah,’ he says.

‘What are we waiting for then?’ Ronan laughs. ‘Mom, do you want to come?’

‘No it’s all right,’ Aurora smiles at them. ‘You can go by yourself.’

They run to the attraction and after showing their wristbands, the ticket conductor lets them in.

‘This is so cool,’ Adam says, jumping in his seat. ‘Have you been in a Ferris wheel before?’

‘No,’ Ronan says, shaking his head for emphasis. ‘I haven’t.’

‘Me neither,’ Adam says, grinning at him. ‘So it’s both of our first time.’

They look out at the scenery as they’re lifted higher and higher.

‘Oh my God,’ Adam says, looking over at Ronan, then lifting his arm to point at the landscape stretching down below them. ‘Are you seeing this? This is so–’

‘Look at the forest,’ Ronan says, staring wide-eyed out. ‘And everybody looks so _small_.’

‘It’s like we’re flying,’ Adam says excitedly. ‘Or like we’re weightless.’

‘I love this,’ Ronan says, looking at Adam.

‘Me too,’ he replies, smiling wide at him.

 

* * *

 

They’re lying in the old tree house in the garden, staring at the ceiling.

‘I’m kind of scared,’ Ronan says then, breaking the silence.

Adam rolls over and looks at him. ‘Me too,’ he says.

They’re starting junior high in three days and though it’s not _high school_ it’s still—different. Something new. A tangible way to measure their growth.

‘I’m scared nobody will like me,’ Adam says, closing his eyes.

‘If people don’t like you they’re ridiculous,’ Ronan says, sounding a little confused and a lot sincere. ‘You’re probably the best thing that ever happened to me.’

Adam punches his shoulder and rolls his eyes, trying to hide how the comment is making him blush. ‘Stop being a _loser_ ,’ he says and rolls over on his back.

‘People are probably not going to like me,’ Ronan says. ‘But I don’t really care much…’

‘How?’ Adam says, looking back over at him.

Ronan turns his head and looks at Adam. ‘I don’t know,’ he says. ‘I have you, so. I don’t know what else I really need; everyone else sort of doesn’t matter in comparison.’

‘Well, I have you,’ Adam says quietly. ‘But I still don’t want everyone else to _hate_ me.’

‘Nobody could hate you,’ Ronan whispers back.

Adam barks out a dry laugh that makes all of Ronan’s skin shiver. _Fuck._ What should he say? What’s—inside the boundaries? What’s OK? If he says they’re worthless, will Adam feel like Ronan’s indirectly calling _him_ worthless?

‘I’m sorry,’ Ronan says, and he wants to reach out and squeeze Adam’s hand but he doesn’t know if that’s too much and too weird and too—Adam probably doesn’t want him to. That was something they did when they were small but now there’s—implications, in that gesture. And Ronan doesn’t want to make Adam uncomfortable.

‘It’s OK,’ Adam says, blinking slowly. ‘I’m sorry—I shouldn’t–’

‘You don’t have anything to say sorry for,’ Ronan says. ‘And I mean it, you know? Nobody in their right mind could hate you.’

‘Yeah, well…’

Ronan wants to say to hell with it, grab Adam’s hand, hold it tight and never let go, make him finally realise that he’s _worth something_ —but he doesn’t. He just looks at him, soft.

‘If it means anything,’ he says then. ‘I could never hate you. And I’ll not-hate you enough to try to make up for them.’

Adam looks at him and smiles a small smile. He wants to take Ronan’s hand, squeeze to let him know he’s thankful. That he’s enough; that what they have is enough. ‘It means something,’ he says instead.

A pause, a silence. Then, ‘anyway,’ Adam says. ‘What are you scared of then?’

‘Promise you don’t tell anyone?’ Ronan says, anxious all of a sudden.

‘Of course,’ Adam says to him, nodding, which is kind of hard when lying down. ‘Cross my heart.’

‘I’m kind of scared of the classes,’ Ronan says, then closes his eyes and breathes out slowly. ‘I don’t know—I already suck at math now and—I don’t know I’m just–’ he sighs resignedly. ‘And the teachers are probably going to hate me which shouldn’t matter but still.’

‘Hey,’ Adam says softly. ‘You don’t suck.’

It’s Ronan’s turn to laugh all harsh and dry; the kind of laugh that’s not really a laugh, but just a hollow sound of self-deprecation.

‘Tell that to the teachers,’ he says. ‘And my math textbook.’

‘So maybe you won’t get A’s in math,’ Adam says. ‘So what? You’re good at—you’re good at _languages_ and you’re good at _animals_ and you’re good at being a _really good friend_ and you’re– I don’t know,’ he says. ‘You’re just really good.’ He still wants to reach out and take his hand.

‘Thanks,’ Ronan says. ‘I’m kind of shitty, I don’t know why you’re friends with me.’

‘You’re the best thing in my life,’ Adam says promptly, not even thinking about it. Not that there’s really anything to think about.

Ronan looks at him; curious, fond, sad. ‘You’re the best thing in mine,’ he says, smiling sort of weakly.

‘Do you have a knife?’ Adam says all of a sudden and Ronan jolts up, eyes wide. ‘ _What_?’ he asks, staring at Adam. ‘I don’t have a knife,’ he says.

‘You should go get one,’ Adam says.

‘OK,’ Ronan says, already getting up and moving to the stairs. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Just go get a knife,’ Adam says, throwing his head back smiling.

‘All right,’ Ronan says. ‘If you’re going to kill me, do I get to have any last wishes?’ He deliberately doesn’t let himself linger on what his last wish would be.

‘I’m not going to _kill_ you,’ Adam says and he sounds almost betrayed. ‘Just go get a knife, loser.’

‘OK,’ Ronan says, crawling down the stairs and sprinting inside.

While he’s gone, Adam crawls down as well and when Ronan gets back, Adam is standing by the foot of the tree.

‘Right,’ Ronan says. ‘I have a knife. So what’s the plan?’

‘You should carve our names into the tree,’ Adam says, smiling proudly, though looking sort of shy. ‘And write “best friends forever” next to it.’

‘Oh my God,’ Ronan says, trying not to convey how his insides are suddenly feeling very light and airy. ‘Fucking loser.’

Adam punches his shoulder and Ronan winces. ‘All right,’ he says. ‘Just give me a second.’

He moves forward and starts on the A. After that, he just hovers for a second. Then he looks over his shoulder. ‘Is it OK if I just carve “A + R”?’ he asks. ‘I don’t know how to make the D pretty.’

‘Yes,’ Adam says, rolling his eyes. ‘Just do it already.’

Ronan turns his head and carves a horizontal line, then a vertical down the middle of it. Then he carves an R, and below it he writes BFFS.

‘There,’ he says, turning around and smiling at Adam. ‘Adam and Ronan, best friends forever.’

‘Yes,’ Adam says. ‘No matter what happens, we still have each other.’

Right then, Ronan can’t help himself, and he reaches out and squeezes Adam’s hand – just once. Then he let’s go, and turns his head away to hide how his cheeks are turning red again.

‘The S is kind of wobbly,’ he says to direct attention elsewhere.

‘You’re kind of wobbly,’ Adam retorts, hitting his shoulder again. Ronan looks back at him. ‘That was a _me_ comment,’ he says in shock. ‘That’s something _I_ would say.’

‘God, I did think it sounded loserly,’ Adam laughs, shaking his head.

‘You sound loserly,’ Ronan says, grinning at him.

_Adam and Ronan, best friends forever._

 

* * *

 

‘You’re my honey bunch, sugar plum,’ Matthew sings, looking at Aurora. ‘Pumpie umpy umpkin…’

Ronan had sung it as a joke but Matthew had liked it for real and learned it by heart and here he is, singing it to his mom for the second time that day. ‘You’re my sweetie pie.’

Ronan rolls his eyes in the background.

 

* * *

 

They’d climbed the tallest of the trees in the garden. Ronan had climbed it lots of times before, of course. Then, though, Adam had tried to get on the same branch as Ronan. It had looked solid, strong enough, but apparently it wasn’t.

So it crashed, and Ronan fell. Adam was still mostly off it so he didn’t fall, but Ronan did. Hard.

And now he’s lying on the ground, screaming. ‘Adam!’ he screams and he’s half laughing, but clearly in pain. ‘ _Fucking hell goddamn it carajo chingada madre Satan i helvede, cac, cac, cac_ ,’ he swears, flashing all his favourite words in various languages.

‘Ronan,’ Adam screams, hurrying down the tree as quickly as possible. ‘Are you all right? Where does it hurt? Are you OK?’

‘ _No_ ,’ Ronan whines. ‘I mean _yes_. I mean _no_. My ankle.’

‘Fuck,’ Adam whispers, kneeling down beside Ronan. ‘Can you move it?’

Ronan bends his ankle and hisses in pain.‘Damnú air!’ he says, rolling his eyes back.

Adam grabs his hand and squeezes it, smiling down at him. ‘It’s OK,’ he says. ‘Can you stand up?’

Ronan tries and it _hurts_ , his knee almost gives out. He winces, closes his eyes, and tries to steady his breathing. He’s got to be strong, cool. Hard-core, don’t cry Ronan.

Adam is still holding his hand, watching as Ronan grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. He knows the signs. ‘It’s OK to cry if you’re feeling pain,’ he says quietly. ‘Are you sure you can stand up?’

‘I’m _sure_ ,’ Ronan says, biting his bottom lip. His knee gives out and he falls down again, screaming as the fall makes his ankle hurt more. He can’t hold the tears back anymore; it _hurts_. ‘Fucking _shit_ ,’ he says, sobbing, quickly wiping at the tears.

‘It’s OK,’ Adam says, hugging him. ‘I’m going to go get mom. It’ll be OK.’

‘Thanks,’ Ronan gasps, still crying. ‘ _Fuck_.’

Adam gets up and runs to the house as fast as he can. ‘Aurora,’ he screams. ‘Mom! Ronan’s hurt!’

Aurora is there quickly, asking what’s wrong and where he is and what’s going on. Adam starts explaining everything all at the same time which leaves Aurora more confused then informed, but she hears him say “the big tree” and follows him when he runs down there.

Ronan’s still lying on the ground, no longer crying but instead hiccupping. ‘Mom,’ he says. ‘I fell down the tree.’

‘Sweetheart,’ Aurora says, kneeling down. ‘Where does it hurt?’

‘My ankle,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes back. ‘ _Fuck_.’

Aurora ignores the swearing and goes to inspect Ronan’s foot instead. He winces as soon as she touches it. ‘We’ve got to get you to the hospital,’ she says. ‘Ready?’ she asks, putting her arms under Ronan’s body as he nods. ‘Great,’ she says, lifting him up and slowly walking back to the house.

‘Adam, love,’ she says. ‘Would you run inside and get the car keys?’

Adam nods and sprints into the kitchen, while Aurora puts Ronan in the passenger seat.

‘Here,’ he says, handing them to her when he’s back outside. Niall has come out too.

‘What’s going on?’ he asks, looking worried.

‘Ronan fell down a tree,’ Aurora says. ‘His ankle hurts. ‘We’re going to the hospital. You and the others be all right, love.’

‘Oh,’ Niall says, quickly kissing her on the cheek. ‘Take care.’

‘You too,’ she says, kissing him. ‘Jump in Adam.’

Adam opens the door and jumps in on the backseat. ‘Are you all right?’ he asks, concern clear in his voice.

‘Fuckin’ incredible,’ Ronan says, looking like he wants to set something on fire. Could be a car. Could be a house. Could be himself.

‘I’m sorry,’ Adam says. ‘It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have–’

‘Shut up, loser,’ Ronan says, looking back at him over his shoulder. ‘Tell me a story.’

‘What?’ Adam asks confused. ‘Why?’

‘Anything,’ Ronan says, still sitting awkwardly in the seat so he can look back at Adam. ‘I like your voice. I can concentrate on that and not my _shitty fucking ankle_ , _fuck me_.’

‘Oh,’ Adam says. ‘All right. Once I got lost biking,’ he begins, watching as Ronan slowly closes his eyes and leans his head back.

‘I saw really cool things so I wasn’t even really scared,’ he continues, voice soft, honey. ‘I thought about how maybe I wouldn’t be able to find home and maybe that wasn’t actu–’ he realises what he’s saying and stops. ‘Anyway, I had a really nice day, actually. There were these flowers, they were small and blue and really pretty, and they were _everywhere_ and it was so gorgeous and then I got into this park, sort of? Anyway, there were so many dogs, I think it maybe was a dog a park, they were so _cute_ , and all the owners let me pet them, and it was so _nice_. Do you like dogs, Ronan? I don’t think I’ve ever asked you that.’

‘Yeah,’ Ronan breathes out. ‘I like dogs. Keep talking.’

For a brief second Adam envisions an older him and an older Ronan and a dog but he’s not sure where exactly that came from or what it means so instead he keeps talking.

‘So after some time I asked one of the adults if they knew what direction I had to bike and they told me the way back. And I don’t know it sounds kind of silly but the sun was shining and everything was just—sort of quiet and really nice.’

Ronan hums softly and Adam observes him in silence. Looks from his curly hair and down to his leg, his ankle—imagines how much pain Ronan must be in, and how it’s mostly Adam’s fault, and what if—what if they can’t _fix_ it?

They get to the hospital and Aurora lifts Ronan inside.

They sit in the ER, waiting till a doctor is free. Adam’s feet are dangling in the air; he can’t even reach the ground. There’s a crease between his eyebrows and he can’t stop worrying. He exaggerates everything in his mind, and far away he _knows_ that’s what he’s doing, that he’s overthinking, but he can’t _stop_.

_“_ What if it’s some kind of horror science fiction doctor and Ronan is going to get his leg _cut off_ and it’s going to be _my fault_ and it won’t change anything of course because it’s still Ronan – my Ronan – and I love him but it’s my _fault_ and he won’t be able to _walk_ and it’s going to hurt so much, getting your leg cut off, and he’s probably not going to cry, or at least try not to, because he’s strong and amazing and _good_ but he’ll be in _pain_ and it’s my _fault_ , why do I _ruin_ everything, why did I have to crawl out on that _branch_ , even though Ronan suggested it, it’s still my _fault_ , and his _foot_ and his _leg_ and _horror_ –”

Ronan is sitting beside him and he notices Adam’s tense expression, wonders what he’s thinking about.

‘Ronan Lynch,’ his name is called out then and Aurora smiles up at the lady.

Inside the room, the doctor is friendly and smiling. He asks who Adam is, asks if it’s his brother. ‘ _No_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘He’s my best friend.’

‘Your best friend,’ the doctor nods and smiles and keeps talking as he examines Ronan’s ankle. He’s X-rayed and doesn’t cry at all. Adam holds his hand through some of it and Ronan looks at him instead of the doctor whenever he touches his skin and something hurts. Calming.

  
When they leave the doctor and go outside in the waiting room, Ronan spots a vending machine.

‘I want a Snickers,’ he says, looking at his mom. ‘I deserve a Snickers.’

‘Honey,’ Aurora says and Ronan interrupts whatever she’d meant to say. ‘My ankle is _sprained_ ,’ he says. ‘Your son is in _pain_ and you’re denying him his _one final wish_. And it’s not even an _unreasonable_ wish; it’s just a _chocolate bar_. I want a Snickers, mom.’

Aurora sighs. ‘Of course,’ she says. ‘Adam, go over and get two Snickers.’

‘Two?’ he wonders, taking the bill Aurora’s handing him.

‘Aren’t you here too?’ she asks, smiling at him.

Adam’s eyes widen. One for him too. He nods slowly. ‘I am,’ he says.

‘Good,’ she smiles. ‘Now go get them before Ronan starts screaming.’

Adam looks at Ronan who’s already looking at him. ‘Go,’ he mouths. ‘I want a Snickers.’

  
It’s not broken, but it is a grade three sprain so he has to have his foot immobile for two weeks. Ronan would rather die, really. It’s _torture_. He can’t play outside, he can’t _run_ , he can’t play sword fights with Adam and Matthew, he is essentially unable to _live_.

‘Did your boyfriend draw a heart on the bandage?’ Declan asks the third day.

‘SHUT UP DECLAN!’ Ronan yells and throws the nearest book after him. Declan falls over laughing. ‘What?’ he says. ‘Scared your boyfriend will hear me?’

‘DECLAN!’ Ronan screams again, throwing something else after him.

‘Declan, leave your brother alone,’ Niall says solemnly. ‘His boyfriend might get angry.’ Declan collapses laughing as Ronan screams out ‘DAD!’

The door bell rings and Matthew pads out to open. ‘Hi Adam,’ he says, taking his hand and dragging him with him inside. ‘Ronan’s throwing things.’

‘Oh no,’ Adam says.

‘Ronan, do you have a boyfriend?’ Matthew asks. ‘I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.’

Adam feels something shift inside of him. He doesn’t say anything – he didn’t know Ronan had a boyfriend, he doesn’t understand why Ronan hasn’t _told him_.

‘I _don’t have a fucking boyfriend_ ,’ Ronan screams. ‘Shut _up_. I don’t have a _boyfriend_.’

Declan laughs, Niall too.

‘Then who are they talking about?’ Matthew asks, clearly confused.

‘ _No one_ ,’ Ronan spits out angrily almost before Matthew is finished talking. ‘They’re just being mean. I don’t have a boyfriend. I don’t want a boyfriend.’ As he says it, he knows it’s not true. Not wholly, anyway. He says it anyway though, because—because he doesn’t want Adam thinking he’s _weird_ and a _freak_ and he doesn’t want to lose Adam and—

‘Huh,’ Matthew says, still looking confused. ‘Weird.’

‘YES,’ Ronan says. ‘They’re weird.’

‘No, I mean you,’ Matthew says. ‘I thought they might’ve meant Adam… Is Adam your boyfriend?’

Adam’s heart stops beating. What is Ronan going to say? And what’s—his heart kind of speeds up in—in what? Anticipation? Hope? What is he hoping? Oh. Is that why it had—is that why it’d felt weird when Matthew had asked if Ronan had a boyfriend and Adam had thought he _did_ and it was someone _else_ and— _oh._

‘I don’t have a fucking _boyfriend_ ,’ Ronan says and he sounds angry. His face is red, he must be _really furious._ Is it really—Adam wants to disappear. He just came to the realisation that he might like Ronan that way and Ronan seems—angry. Disgusted, almost.

‘Stop saying I have a boyfriend,’ he says, throwing another book. ‘I hate all of you.’

Adam swallows hard.

‘Except you,’ Ronan says, looking at Adam. ‘I don’t hate you.’

Adam smiles at him. ‘I don’t hate you either,’ he chokes out and it comes out hollow, wet.

‘Can we get out of here?’ he asks, shooting daggers at his dad and Declan.

Adam offers his shoulder for Ronan to sling his arms over and helps him half-jump half-walk into his room. He lies down on his bed and closes his eyes, sighs. ‘I hate this thing,’ he says. ‘I just want to be outside and play and _move_ and be with you.’

‘I’m right here,’ Adam says, lying down on the other side of the bed. ‘I could read, if you want.’

‘Sounds nice,’ Ronan hums contentedly.

‘I have to analyse this poem for class,’ Adam says. ‘Is it OK if I read that?’

‘Of course,’ Ronan says, his eyes still closed. ‘Anything you read is good. I like your voice.’

‘All right,’ Adam says, quickly getting up and browsing through his bag. He gets out his papers and sits down on the bed. ‘I carry your heart with me,’ he begins. ‘(I carry it in my heart.) I am never without it (anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling).

‘I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet). I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.

‘Here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart.

‘I carry your heart,’ he reads and he looks up at Ronan with sad eyes. His eyes are still closed, soft features relaxed. ‘(I carry it in my heart).’ Adam breathes out softly, squeezes his eyes shut, _don’t cry, grow up_.

‘That was,’ Ronan says, pausing for a second and opening his eyes. ‘Very beautiful.’ He thinks about the words and he wishes, so desperately, that this wasn’t just a poem Adam had to read for class but that it was actually—Ronan identified with the poem, how he felt about Adam. He wishes Adam felt the same about him.

 

‘You know,’ Matthew says thoughtfully, later when he’s sitting with Ronan in his room. ‘I think it would be cute if Adam was your boyfriend.’

Ronan swallows hard. He thinks: _so do I._

 

* * *

 

‘Adam,’ Ronan says in a relieved voice when he shows up by his door.

‘Ronan,’ Adam says, looking confusedly at him. ‘What’s up?’

‘Can we go to the cows?’ he asks and Adam nods. ‘Of course, sure, let’s go.’

When they’re at the field, Ronan lies down and stares up at the sky. Adam pets Dream for a minute, then sits down beside him, looking curiously at him. ‘What’s up?’ he asks, because something definitely is.

‘They think I have this letter thing,’ Ronan says, closing his eyes. ‘The teachers, and mom and dad kind of. Something with A, I don’t know. I need to see this psychologist and they’ll test me and stuff.’

‘ADHD?’ Adam asks and Ronan nods and looks up at him. ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘But something else too, before it. Intentive or something…’

‘Inattentive,’ Adam supplies, smiling at him.

‘Yeah…’ Ronan says. ‘That.’

‘You seem sad,’ Adam says. ‘Why?’

‘What if there’s something _wrong_ with me?’ he says, balling his hands into fists.

‘There’s nothing _wrong_ with you,’ Adam says.

‘What is this _thing_ then?’ Ronan spits out. ‘If it’s not something _wrong_?’

‘Your brain just works different than mine,’ he says. ‘But nobody’s brain works the same, then we’d all be equally good at everything, you know? I thought you were really cool yesterday and I still think you’re really cool. You’re still Ronan. There’s nothing wrong with you.’

‘Except I’m–’ he sits up and waves his hand around in front of him. ‘This _thing_.’

‘Don’t you think it’s kind of cool, though?’ Adam says. ‘I mean, if the psychologist can tell you some things and it’ll be easier to, you know, if there are things you’re having trouble with? Maybe they can help you with concentrating and stuff.’

‘I guess,’ Ronan says, rolling back down. ‘But still. I wish I was just _normal_.’

‘Me too,’ Adam says. ‘But what does that even really mean?’

Ronan rolls over and looks at him, wide eyes. ‘Better at math,’ he says. ‘Better at— _being_.’

‘You’re really good at being,’ Adam says quietly. ‘And lots of other things.’

‘Not like you,’ he whispers. ‘You’re _really good_.’ He voice cuts off and he wants to cry. ‘You are so good.’

It punches the air out of Adam and his mouth falls open. He’s never—nobody’s ever—he’s not _good_. He’s a _failure_. And he wasn’t supposed to have been _born_.

‘You’re so good,’ Ronan repeats barely above a whisper, closing his eyes.

Adam closes looks away, swallows hard. ‘You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,’ he says and he’s not sure if Ronan even hears him. ‘There’s nothing wrong with you.’

  
‘So,’ he says, weeks later. ‘I have that thing. Inattentive ADHD.’

‘OK,’ Adam says, smiling at him. ‘How was the psychologist?’

‘She was nice, actually,’ Ronan says, smiling back. ‘I thought she’d be, like, old and mad and weird, but she was young and smiled at me and was very nice. And asked questions and stuff and it wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.’

‘That’s cool,’ Adam says. ‘I’m happy it wasn’t bad!’

‘Yeah,’ Ronan says. ‘I’m going to talk with her more times and she’s going to help me, kind of? Give ideas on what I can do when I can’t concentrate and when my brain goes in fuck and stuff.’

‘That’s good,’ Adam says. ‘If you ever need something, just tell me. You know I’ll do anything.’

‘You too,’ Ronan says. ‘Always.’


	6. Thirteen years old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heads up tw theres some vague masturbation ??? it doesn't warrant a change of rating so for now its staying teen !!!

‘I want to have a picnic,’ Ronan declares one day. ‘To celebrate how it’s finally spring.’

‘All right,’ Adam replies, wondering when Ronan had decided that he cared about it being spring, but not questioning it. ‘When and where?’

‘The weekend, probably,’ Ronan answers, looking to be thinking. ‘If I’m sweet, maybe mom will bake something for us. And we can bring juice, and apples and, like, a book– if you want to read- maybe? And just be us, you know?’

‘That sounds nice,’ Adam says, smiling at his friend. ‘I’m going to ask your mom if I can bake with her.’

‘Loser,’ Ronan says.

Adam stares him down. ‘No,’ he says. ‘I think you’ve confused the two us again.’

‘I have never confused us,’ Ronan says. ‘I don’t even think that’s possible.’

‘What do you mean?’ Adam asks, slumping down.

‘I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you’re really smart and cool and I can’t even do simple math. Also, I’m hot.’

‘Shut up,’ Adam rolls his eyes. ‘Just ‘cause you’re hot doesn’t mean you’re not still a massive loser.’

‘Did you just call me hot?’

Adam’s expression doesn’t falter; he just looks at Ronan and raises his eyebrow. ‘So what if I did?’

‘Nothing,’ Ronan says, feeling very overwhelmed. ‘Just thought you had higher standards.’

‘Oh my God,’ Adam says. ‘I didn’t say I wanted to _marry_ you.’

‘You don’t?’ Ronan grins.

‘Shut up, loser,’ Adam says. ‘We’re _twelve_.’

‘You turn thirteen soon though,’ Ronan says, quickly moving on to a new topic. ‘Excited yet? You’re going to be a _teenager_.’

‘And you’re still going to be a child,’ Adam says. ‘Little seal.’

‘I swear to God,’ Ronan says. ‘I’ll wreck you. Don’t fuck with me.’

‘You sure?’ Adam asks, and Ronan wants to wipe the smirk off his face. Or kiss it. Either would be all right. ‘You basically just proposed…’

‘I _did not_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘Shut up.’

  
Adam asks Aurora if she’ll help him bake, and she obviously agrees, smiling at him. ‘What do you want to bake?’ she asks. ‘Cinnamon rolls?’

‘Yeah,’ Adam smiles up at her. ‘How’d you know?’

She just smiles at him. ‘You should come by early Saturday then,’ she says. ‘So they’ll be fresh baked and great for you.’

Adam nods at her. ‘Thank you,’ he says.

  
So he comes early Saturday and heads to the kitchen to Aurora. She’s already got everything ready and set up. ‘Hi love,’ she greets him, giving him a wide smile.

‘Hi,’ Adam says. ‘Good morning.’

‘Good morning. Ready to bake?’

Adam nods and smiles at her. ‘Yes,’ he says, pushing up his sleeves, and heads to the sink to wash his hands.

They mix ingredients while talking about school and books and life.

When the cinnamon rolls are done, Aurora helps them pack up a basket with them and juice and some other things she thinks they might like.

‘Ready to _roll_?’ Ronan asks, clearly excited.

‘Yeah,’ Adam says, giddy with excitement.

They jump on their bikes and Adam follows Ronan, thinking he’d probably do that to the end of the world.

  
When in a nice spot in the woods, Ronan stops his bike and jumps off. ‘This place is great,’ he says, beginning to fold out the chequered blanket Aurora sent with them.

Adam gets off his bike too, smiling as he watches Ronan. He dumps down cross-legged on the blanket and grins at him. ‘Happy spring,’ he says and Ronan smiles back at him. ‘Happy spring.’

‘I hope you like the cinnamon rolls,’ Adam says, looking nervously at his friend.

Ronan winks at him and Adam thinks, for a second, that that was a very odd reaction– but it’s _Ronan_ – so really maybe it’s not that odd.

‘I will,’ Ronan says. ‘You made them.’

‘That’s no guarantee they’re good,’ Adam muses but Ronan shuts him up. ‘It is,’ Ronan says. ‘Everything you do is good.’

‘Shut up,’ Adam says, rolling his eyes. ‘Stop being a loser.’

 

Adam reaches out and puts a flower in Ronan’s hair and to hide how his cheeks flame up Ronan turns around and starts plucking flowers. He gathers a bunch and sits down on the blanket again, smiling up at Adam as he begins to weave them together to a crown.

Adam stares at him in wonder, wide eyes. ‘How do you know how to do this?’ he asks and Ronan doesn’t reply, just sort of shrugs.

‘Don’t tell me you looked it up on YouTube or something,’ he says and Ronan looks away, thinking _fuck_. ‘I’m fucking punk,’ he says instead, not looking Adam in the eye.

‘Oh my God,’ Adam says, laughing at him. ‘You did. Ronan Lynch, so-called punk, spent two hours on YouTube learning how to make flower crowns.’

‘Shut up,’ Ronan says, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. He looks down at the flowers in his hand and continues tying them together.

Adam just looks at Ronan for a while, watches him work. Then he lies down and puts his head on Ronan’s lap, closing his eyes.

Ronan startles for a second, then relaxes and starts humming. His fingers work fast and easy, lacing the flowers together, and Adam just lies there, listening to him singing an old Irish lullaby under his breath and feeling the wind blow through his hair.

‘It’s finished,’ Ronan says then, and Adam opens his eyes and looks up at him, blinking slowly.

‘Sit up,’ Ronan says and Adam obeys. Ronan leans forward and gingerly places the flower crown atop Adam’s head and smiles at him, admiring his work.

‘How do I look?’ Adam asks, grinning lazily at Ronan.

Ronan smiles softly at him and tells him, ‘really good.’

Adam grins up at him.

 

* * *

 

‘Do you want to come with us to the beach?’ Ronan asks. ‘On Saturday.’

‘Yes,’ Adam says without hesitation. He’s never been to the beach before.

Ronan lights up and smiles at him. ‘Cool,’ he says. ‘We’re going to leave really early,’ he continues. ‘Like, six am early.’

‘That’s early,’ Adam agrees.

‘Yeah,’ Ronan says. ‘It’s like a six hours drive but it’ll probably only take four because dad’s driving.’ He grins at Adam.

‘Your dad is like you only older,’ Adam grins back.

‘I know,’ Ronan says. ‘He’s _cool_.’ Then after a second he looks to come to a realisation and he suddenly looks serious. ‘I have extra swimming trunks if you don’t have any,’ he says and he doesn’t miss the shy tone of his voice. He tries to swallow it down.

‘I don’t, actually–’ Adam says. ‘I don’t know how to swim.’

‘You don’t?’ Ronan asks, eyes widening. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who doesn’t know how to swim.’

‘Shut up,’ Adam says, punching his shoulder. ‘Nobody ever taught me. You probably took classes, nerd.’

‘I did,’ Ronan says, laughing at him. ‘But at least I can swim.’

‘Fuck you,’ Adam says. ‘I guess I’ll just have to rely on you to save me if I’m about to drown.’

‘I’ll save you, don’t worry,’ Ronan smiles at him.

‘My knight in shining armour,’ Adam grins, batting his eyelashes dramatically.

Ronan blushes slightly, and then punches Adam’s shoulder. ‘Shut up,’ he says. ‘That makes you a damsel in distress.’

Adam nods. ‘Suppose so,’ he says. ‘Guess you’re not my knight in shining armour after all.’

‘How would I even save you from drowning while wearing an _armour_?’ Ronan wonders. ‘That’d be so difficult.’

‘Guess you’d have to take it off,’ Adam smirks at him and Ronan’s cheeks turn red. ‘Guess I would,’ he says, trying to play it cool. ‘I bet you’d like that, damsel in distress.’

Adam just throws his head back in laughter.

  
He’s at the Barns 5:45 Saturday morning, tired eyes and hair still messy from sleep.

‘Morning,’ he says when he sees Ronan and yawns.

‘Good morning,’ Ronan says. ‘Are you ready?’

‘I am,’ Adam says, nodding enthusiastically. ‘Still tired though.’

‘Me too,’ Ronan says. ‘We can sleep in the car.’

In the car, Adam falls asleep and his head drops down on Ronan’s shoulder. Ronan falls asleep too, his head leaning back. Matthew sleeps as well.

  
At the beach, Adam is in awe with everything. At first, he was kind of self conscious about his body, but there weren’t any fresh bruises so he figured it would be all right.

He spends ages listening to the waves, watching how they lick the shore, touching the sand, and wriggling his toes. Inhaling deeply, and tasting the salt in the air.

‘Do you want to make a sand castle?’ Ronan asks, already gathering sand.

‘Sure,’ Adam says, dropping down beside him.

Ronan is so delicate with it and into the details, soft fingers forming the sand to towers and spires. Adam stares at him with wide eyes because Ronan being _delicate_ with something—and it’s not that Ronan is violent or non-delicate, it’s just that he’s lively and sometimes rough and—so very _Ronan_. And he’s looking at the sand castle in concentration, focusing on making it pretty. Ronan’s a paradox, Adam thinks.

Matthew pads over to them, wearing his bright yellow hat, and sits down beside Adam. ‘That’s pretty,’ he says, pointing at the castle, in case they were wondering what he was complimenting.

Ronan looks up at him. ‘Thanks,’ he says.

‘I like your hat,’ Adam says and Matthew grins up at him. ‘Me too,’ he says. ‘It used to be Ronan’s.’

‘It did?’ Adam asks.

‘Yes,’ Matthew nods. ‘It suits me better though.’

‘I don’t doubt that,’ Adam says.

‘Shut up,’ Ronan says. ‘You’d be into me with that hat.’

‘But would it go well with your shining armour?’ Adam asks.

‘Thought you wanted me to take that off,’ Ronan asks, his turn to smirk at Adam now. He’s got this under control. This is—all right.

‘Are you suggesting you wear nothing but the hat?’ Adam asks, raising an eyebrow.

Ronan splutters and looks down at his sand castle. ‘I’m _not_ ,’ he says. ‘Shut up.’

Adam laughs at him and moves forward again to help with the sand castle.

  
There’s a girl Declan’s age there with her family as well. She and Declan hit it off, flirting wildly; she’s twisting her hair around her finger, sharing compliments, laughing.

Suddenly, they disappear.

Ronan and Adam are running around and they accidentally get behind a rock and find Declan and the girl making out. Ronan’s mouth drops open and he feels weird. They stumble away hurriedly and don’t look at each other for a while.

Then, Adam briefly mentions that the girl was really beautiful. He’s not even really paying attention to it or caring much but Ronan can’t stop thinking about it. She’s so blonde and short and delicate and a _girl_ and so— _different_ from Ronan, and he doesn’t get why he’s comparing himself to her and he guesses—yeah, she’s pretty, but not much more. Declan had his hands in her hair and she was sitting in his lap and he looked to _like_ it so much and _Adam_ pointed out how she was pretty and why isn’t—why isn’t _Ronan_ thinking about this, what’s wrong with him, why isn’t he feeling any sort of way, except some kind of weird jealousy that Adam thinks someone so unlike him is gorgeous.

He keeps wondering about it, how, well, OK, I guess she kind of isn’t, you know, _gross_ , but I don’t really—and his mind goes to the boys in school and how he’s overheard them talking about how pretty Dania was and how they’d talked about wanting to kiss her and Ronan had never wanted that, and now that he thinks about it—yeah, she’s nice to look at but she isn’t pretty, like—she isn’t pretty like Adam, not nice to look at like Adam is. Adam is so beautiful with his sand-coloured hair and blue eyes and his hands and—stop, Ronan. You promised yourself not to go there, you _promised_. Don’t go there. Don’t make things weird.

  
Aurora had baked muffins and made sandwiches and they eat lunch sitting on towels on the sand, looking out at the water and the sky, laughing together.

‘What do you think of my swimming trunks?’ Matthew says, standing up as he bites into a muffin. ‘Aren’t they cool?’

‘They’re very cool,’ Adam agrees, looking at the blue shorts with red and yellow fish.

‘They also had these with ghosts I kind of wanted but mom wouldn’t let me,’ he says, sitting down again.

‘You’re lying now, honey,’ Aurora says. ‘You chose the ones with fish.’

‘Yeah,’ Matthew says. ‘But the ghost ones were cool too.’

  
‘I could teach you to swim,’ Ronan shyly suggests, while they’re lying at the shore, water rushing over their feet, looking at the sky.

‘You can?’ Adam asks, turning his head and looking over at Ronan.

‘Well, I mean, we can try…’

‘I hope I don’t embarrass myself,’ Adam says, smiling at him. ‘But let’s try.’

‘OK,’ Ronan says, taking his hand and pulling him up and with him into the water. Adam doesn’t let go of Ronan’s hand as they walk further into the water. He feels the nerves bubbling up, a kind of anxiety – not so much of drowning, but more of failing. He thinks, briefly, that there’s something wrong with his perspective and priorities, but he doesn’t dwell on it.

‘How are we going to–’ he says, and looks up at Ronan and sees the sunlight reflect in his eyes. He smiles reassuringly at him.

‘Lie down on your stomach,’ Ronan says. ‘And you have to relax, otherwise you’ll sink.’

Adam leans forward and tries to still his body. It’s going to be all right, Ronan’s there, he promised to save you. He promised to always be there.

‘Is it OK if I touch you?’ Ronan asks silently.

Adam looks up at him and nods. ‘Yes,’ he says and he hopes he’s imagining the desperate tone to his voice.

Ronan smiles at him and nods. He holds his hand under him on his stomach, holding him up so he doesn’t sink. ‘You can try to take a stroke,’ he says.

Adam does. Ronan keeps his hand under his stomach and smiles at him. ‘Awesome,’ he says. ‘You’re good at this.’

‘You’re just saying that,’ Adam says, smiling at him. ‘Because I’m a damsel in distress and you’re trying to woo me.’

Ronan splutters again, blushing and looking away. ‘Oh my God,’ he says. ‘I’m not.’

‘Sure, whatever,’ Adam says, standing up. There’s something stuck in Ronan’s hair so Adam leans in to take it. Then he smoothes his hair to one side and smiles at him; their smile, his only-for-Ronan smile, and says, ‘your hair is getting longer.’ He steps back, still smiling at him.

Ronan’s heart is beating fast and he tries to keep his breathing steady. He feels like he’s dying and in the process of remembering to breathe he forgets to smile at Adam; he kind of just stares dumbstruck at him.

Then Adam notices what he just did and he starts silently freaking out, sure Ronan will think he’s a freak _and what was that even about_?

Aurora’s sitting on the sand, looking at them, noticing how Adam turns away blushing.

‘They’re sweet,’ she says, looking over at her husband. ‘I’m glad Ronan’s got him.’

‘So am I,’ Niall says. ‘They’re good for each other.’

 

* * *

 

Their car breaks down. They’re on the middle of the road on the way to town to get doughnuts because it’s Matthew’s birthday.

‘God _damn_ ,’ Niall says, slamming his hands hard on the wheel before getting up. ‘Okay, I’ve got this.’

It’s summer and since the engine’s broken down the aircon doesn’t work, so they stumble out of the hot car to get some fresh air.

‘God, I’m suffocating,’ Ronan says dramatically.

‘Imagine if you actually did,’ Declan says. ‘Finally we’d have a moment of peace and quiet.’

‘Fuck you, Declan,’ Ronan spits back. ‘You’d miss me like hell.’

‘You sure?’ Declan teases, winking at him.

‘I’d miss you,’ Matthew offers. ‘It’d suck a lot if you died. Well, I mean, there’d be more doughnuts for me but I don’t think that’d make it worth it.’

‘Thanks Matthew,’ Ronan says. ‘I’m really happy you love me more than doughnuts.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Matthew says, grinning at him. He turns to ask Adam something but he’s standing behind Niall, looking intently at his rough hands working fast.

Niall looks over his shoulder and notices. ‘You’d like to learn, kid?’ he asks, smiling at him before turning his attention back to the car.

Adam coughs and shakes his head quickly to focus. ‘Would you teach me?’ he asks.

‘Sure,’ Niall says. ‘I’m home all summer.’

‘Wow,’ Adam says. ‘Thank you.’

‘No problem,’ Niall grins.

  
As promised, Niall teaches Adam all about the inner workings of cars. Adam picks up quickly and soon he can take apart and collect a car easily.

He picks a couple of books up from the library and reads further, acquiring even more knowledge, which he can then apply in real life.

He wonders if maybe when he’s fourteen he’d be able to apply for a job at a garage somewhere and earn money from this. He thinks that’d be cool – it’d be hard work, he’s not denying the toll it’s all taking on his muscles, but it’d be nice too. He likes it – there’s something relaxing to machines; they’re simple and they don’t ask questions. It’s just him and them and maybe some music blaring through the speakers.

 

* * *

 

‘I’m going to start to tennis,’ Ronan says one day. ‘There’s practice every Monday and Thursday at 4 PM.’

‘Sounds cool,’ Adam says.

Ronan doesn’t know how to continue. He doesn’t know how to say that “Adam won’t be able to come over those days” or how to offer that he can come to the club. He wants to mention how “dad trains boxing there so he can drive him whenever he wants to see Ronan,” because that would involve telling Adam “when you want to see me” and he feels weird saying that. Maybe because it implies that Adam _would_ want to see Ronan, which he technically knows he does, because he comes by all the time, but still _saying_ it is weird. So he doesn’t say anything.

‘You could come sometimes, if you want,’ he says then, hoping it’s well received.

‘We can live an 80s teen movie,’ Adam says. ‘You’re the athlete, I study at the bleachers.’

Neither of them point out how in the movies Adam is referring to, the athlete and the one studying at the bleachers fairly often end up making out. That’s not the _point_.

‘Fucking nerd,’ Ronan says, but he’s happy that Adam would like to join him at practice sometimes.

  
The Lynches signed Adam under their membership because Ronan asked them to, and so Adam comes to see Ronan practice. Every Tuesday or Thursday that he otherwise would’ve gone to the Barns, he goes to the tennis club instead. Not _every_ time, because that’d be really weird and he didn’t go to the Barns _every_ day anyway. Just sometimes.

And he does bring his homework, but it’s not always he gets a lot done because sometimes he gets caught staring at the way Ronan moves on the court, muscles flexing, pulling at his shirt when it starts sticking to his skin, how he looks _good_.

He moves with such ease – like he was born to be on the court, playing.

There’s a pool close to the tennis courts, and Adam still can’t swim, and as nice as it is to watch Ronan play, he’d also like to learn to swim. Ronan had taught him the basics at the beach and he’d loved the feeling of water around him, of weightlessness, so one day he asks Aurora if she thinks it’d be OK for him to try swimming.

Aurora thinks it’s wonderful, so Adam shyly goes to the locker rooms and changes into swimming trunks.

The water is cold at first and he threads water awkwardly, getting used to the feeling, but he looks at the people swimming in the other lanes, quickly and beautifully, and he picks up on the mechanics.

Adam likes the feeling of the water around him, how it’s simultaneously heavy and gentle, how it drowns everything out, touches his skin _soft_ , but it’s all around him, _everywhere_ , and with his head under it he can’t hear anything and he doesn’t have to think about _anything_ , just the pool and strokes and him.

  
When Ronan has been practicing for a couple of months, there’s a match, Sunday. Adam went to the Barns and drove with them to the stadium. Matthew had made a sign reading “GO RONAN!” and here they are now, on the bleachers, watching Ronan play.

They’re all cheering and screaming encouragements at him.

Ronan wins and after shaking his opponent’s hand he runs off the court to greet his family. Matthew wraps his arms around him and hugs him tight. ‘You _beat him_ ,’ he grins, pulling away and looking up at his big brother.

Aurora and Niall hug him as well, telling him he played well and that they’re proud. Ronan pulls away then and looks at Adam, grinning widely.

‘Congratulations,’ Adam says, hesitantly pulling him into a hug. Ronan returns it enthusiastically, squeezing Adam tight. Then he pulls away again, still smiling. ‘Thanks,’ he says.

‘You _wrecked_ him,’ Adam says.

‘Honestly, that guy can suck my dick,’ Ronan says, grinning triumphantly. ‘And so can you, anyway.’

‘Shut up, God,’ Adam says, rolling his eyes. ‘You played really well. You’re really good.’

‘When am I not?’

‘Do you want the list itemised and unabridged or will the highlights suffice?’

‘Wow, rude,’ Ronan says, staring at Adam in mock hurt.

Adam raises his eyebrow at him slowly but otherwise doesn’t do or say anything.

‘Fuck you,’ Ronan says. ‘I just won. Be nice to me.’

‘OK, I’ll be nice to you,’ Adam says. ‘The nicest ever.’

‘Somehow, I don’t believe you…’

  
When he gets home, he can’t stop thinking about Ronan’s victory and how well he’d played and how _good_ he’d looked and how—

He can feel himself getting hard and he starts panicking and he tries to resist it. It’s fine, he’s cute, it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s _fine_ , but holy shit, the sweat droplets running down him and the sunlight and what if _Adam_ had made him look like that and—“that guy can suck my dick _and so can you_ ” and he shouldn’t do this, he knows it’s an OK thing to do _but not while thinking about your best friend_ —

He swears at himself and then thinks about Ronan swearing, all hot and heavy and it’s like _poetry_ , all the poems he has to read and analyse for class and none of them sound like or make him feel like Ronan stringing together swear words like he was _born_ to do it.

So he gives up resisting, it’s _fine_ , he’ll never know, and he starts fast because he keeps thinking about Ronan and it’s fast and rough and that’s good because otherwise he’d think too much about it and he thinks that Ronan would like it this way, and he keeps thinking about Ronan, first his eyes and his smile and his hair, but then also his loyalty, and bravery, and how _kind_ he is, and he’s the _best thing_ that’s ever happened to Adam, he’s really the _only good thing_ , he’s the first person that has ever been _good_ to Adam—

He thinks about making Ronan feel good, feel happy and right, every _fuck_ Ronan has said replays in his mind and he twists it into something where Adam is the one making him say it by being good to him, by making Ronan feel _good_ , and then he comes really silently, biting his lip and shaking a little bit and then—then the shame kicks in again.

The embarrassment. The guilt. This was _wrong_ and _bad_ and if anyone knew they’d be _disgusted_ , Ronan would be so disgusted, Ronan would be so _mad_ , he’d never speak to him again, he’d end their friendship if he knew Adam thought of him like this, thought of him this _way_ , if he knew Adam _touched himself_ thinking about Ronan and it hasn’t—it hasn’t happened before and it’s _not_ going to happen again because it’s _wrong_ and Adam isn’t about to fuck up the one good thing just because he can’t control his shitty heart.

 

* * *

 

‘Adam,’ Matthew demands. ‘Stop staring at Ronan. I’m telling you a joke.’

‘I wasn’t,’ Adam splutters, blushing and looking over at Matthew. ‘I wasn’t staring at Ronan.’

‘Whatever you say,’ Declan chimes in, smirking at Ronan. ‘But he was staring at you as well.’

‘Shut up, Dec,’ Ronan says, looking down. ‘I wasn’t.’

Declan throws his head back in laughter and Matthew smiles at them. ‘You were,’ he says to Adam. ‘But it’s OK. He’s kind of pretty.’

Adam feels like he just got the air punched out of him and Ronan looks up in horror. ‘I’m not _pretty_ ,’ he says. ‘I’m _terrifying_.’

‘You’re not terrifying,’ Adam says, rolling his eyes. ‘But you are kind of pretty. You have nice eyes.’

Ronan blushes at him and mutters a couple of swear words, looking away. ‘Shut up, I don’t. _You_ have nice eyes.’

‘Oh my _God_ ,’ Declan and Matthew says simultaneously. ‘Are you going to let me tell my joke?’ Matthew continues.

‘Or are you going to flirt all day?’ Declan smirks. ‘You could take it to Ronan’s room.’

Ronan puts his head in his hands, partly to hide his red cheeks and partly to feign annoyance. ‘Shut up,’ he mutters.

Adam swiftly changes the subject, looking at Matthew. ‘I want to hear your joke,’ he says.

‘Good,’ Matthew says. ‘Get ready.’

Adam nods at him. ‘I’m ready.’

‘What did the ocean say to the other ocean?’ Matthew says, grinning up at Adam.

Adam thinks for a second, looking at Matthew in concentration. Ronan looks over at him. If Ronan is pretty then Adam is—godlike, or something like that. _Adam_ is the pretty one.

‘I don’t know,’ Adam says. ‘Nice to _sea_ you?’

‘No,’ Matthew grins. ‘They didn’t say anything. They just waved.’

Adam cracks up and laughs at him. ‘Oh my God,’ he says and Matthew laughs with him. ‘It’s funny, right? I think it’s funny. Aren’t you happy you stopped staring at Ronan so you didn’t miss out on this?’

‘Yes,’ Adam says. ‘I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.’

‘So you admit you were staring at Ronan?’ Matthew asks, smirking at him. Gotcha, he thinks.

‘ _No_ ,’ Adam chokes out. ‘I wasn’t.’

‘Whatever you say, kid,’ Declan laughs. ‘Keep not-staring at him then.’

Adam looks over at Ronan who looks to be having a heart attack. He’s looking at Adam too, cheeks red, and hair kind of mussed. ‘He sucks,’ he mouths to Adam.

‘I know,’ Adam mouths back.

‘I’m not the one who sucks,’ Declan says and winks at them. ‘Gotta go, I’m going to Ashley’s.’

‘Is Ashley your girlfriend?’ Matthew asks, looking up at his oldest brother. ‘I don’t have a girlfriend.’

‘No,’ Declan says. ‘She’s just a friend.’

‘Right,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes. ‘Just a friend.’ Two can play this game. Your move, Declan Lynch.

‘Yes,’ Declan says. ‘Just a friend.’ He shoots a glance at Adam, and then looks back at Ronan and smirks. ‘See you later little brother.’

Ronan blushes and stutters out a _see you_ before looking at the floor again.

‘Do you want to play a game?’ Matthew asks.

‘Sure,’ Adam says. ‘What game do you want to play?’

‘Hmm,’ Matthew wonders. ‘I don’t know. Ronan, what do you want to play?’

‘Does it matter,’ he says. ‘We all know I’m going to lose anyway.’

‘That’s because you are a loser,’ Adam says. ‘It’s in your job description.’

‘It’s my _job_ being a loser now?’ Ronan says. ‘I don’t even get _paid_.’

‘What payment do you want?’ Adam says. ‘I thought I was enough.’ He smiles at him and Ronan looks away, he won’t let Adam see his reaction, how _yes you are more than enough, I’d like to kiss you though maybe._

‘Shut up,’ Ronan says. ‘I thought we were going to play a game.’

‘We are,’ Matthew says. ‘Once you two stop being gross.’

Adam looks at the ground, blushing.

‘What game do you want to play?’ he continues. ‘We should play Twister.’

‘Let’s play Twister,’ Adam says.

‘I want to spin the roulette,’ Matthew says. ‘The game’s in my room; let me get it!’

Matthew comes back with the Twister blanket and starts spreading it out on the floor. ‘OK,’ he says. ‘Let’s do this.’ He drops down and sits cross-legged on the floor. He spins the wheel. ‘Right foot blue,’ he says and gestures for Adam and Ronan to get to it already.

“Right foot blue,” Ronan thinks. “OK, I’ve got this.” He puts his right foot on one of the blue circles. Adam has his on the one in the other corner.

‘Left hand green,’ Matthew continues.

Soon, they’re all tangled together.

The needle lands on left hand red but that’s in the opposite direction and is going to untangle them and—‘Right hand blue,’ Matthew says in the most sincere voice he can muster up.

‘ _God_ ,’ Ronan says, realising the implications of what that order means. He’ll have to— _fuck_. ‘Why are we playing this?’ he laughs, shakily.

Adam moves over and places his right hand on a blue dot and his head is _right_ over Ronan’s, faces only an inch apart. Ronan gulps and looks away. He tries to move his hand to a blue but he slips and falls, dragging Adam with him.

Ronan takes a second to let the realisation of how _Adam’s lying on top of him_ sink in and when he does he swallows hard and grits his teeth.

‘You’re bad at this, loser,’ Adam says, grinning down at him.

‘Shut up,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes. ‘Suck my dick.’

Adam smirks down at him and raises his right eyebrow. ‘Well… If you say so.’

‘Shut up, oh my God,’ Ronan laughs, punching Adam’s shoulder so he rolls over. ‘Shut up, I didn’t mean it like that.’

‘How’d you mean it then, Ronan?’ Matthew asks. ‘Why are you saying things you don’t mean? That’s lying, Ronan. Mom says lying isn’t nice.’

Ronan glares at Matthew. ‘Stop,’ he says.

‘I didn’t _do_ anything,’ Matthew says.

‘You’re mocking me,’ Ronan says. ‘Stop that.’

‘I’m not mocking you,’ Matthew says. ‘Just because you told Adam to do that thing with the words mom says you shouldn’t say.’

‘Oh my God,’ Ronan says quietly, shaking his head slowly. This isn’t happening. This is not happening.

‘I don’t think he meant it like that,’ Adam says, stubbornly ignoring how he’s blushing.

‘How’d he mean it then?’ Matthew asks, looking confused.

‘I think he just meant, like, to tell me to shut up.’

‘Hmm,’ Matthew says, looking suspicious. ‘You might be right. You might not.’

‘Oh God, this isn’t happening,’ Ronan says. ‘Shut up, Matthew.’

‘Ronan,’ Matthew says. ‘Do you want Adam to do that thing you just said?’

Ronan splutters and stares at his little brother, cheeks turning bright red. Adam’s blushing too, trying to figure out where to look because he can’t look at either of the Lynch brothers.

‘ _No_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘Oh my God, shut up, you’re like ten.’

It stings, Adam thinks, that he answered so fast, and why does it do that—why does it sting, why does it hurt, it was _obviously_ all a joke, and he’s only thirteen it’s not even— _God_ , what does this _mean_?

‘Matthew, love,’ Aurora calls. ‘Come help me!’

‘I’m coming mom!’ Matthew yells, jumping up from the floor. ‘I have to go help mom,’ he says to Adam and Ronan. ‘Goodbye.’

‘We’ll still be in the same house, _God_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘Goodbye.’

‘Goodbye, Matthew,’ Adam says, smiling at him.

With Matthew gone, Ronan thinks things are—what if Adam thought Ronan _did_ mean that thing and now he thinks he’s _gross_ and _weird_ and—

‘Do you want to go outside?’ he asks, not looking more at the wall behind him than Adam’s face.

‘Yes,’ Adam says, smiling at him. ‘Should we tidy up here?’

‘Nah,’ Ronan says. ‘Let’s leave it to Matthew.’

‘If you say so…’ Adam says and Ronan grins at him. ‘I say so.’

  
They go outside and lie down on the grass, pointing out cloud shapes in the sky. ‘That one looks like a dinosaur,’ Adam says, pointing.

‘No,’ Ronan says. ‘That’s pretty clearly a car.’

‘How is that a _car_?’

‘How is it a _dinosaur_?’ Ronan shoots back, turning his head and rolling his eyes at Adam.

‘Right _there_ ,’ he says. ‘Can’t you see that’s the head, and then tiny arms like a T-Rex, and then–’

‘Those aren’t _arms_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘It’s a _car_ , loser.’

Adam rolls his eyes at him, punches his arm softly, and then all of a sudden he’s sitting on top of him, tickling him. Ronan is gasping for breath between fits of laughter and swear words – ‘ _I swear to God Adam I’ll destroy you stop God stop!_ ’ Adam is laughing down at him, tickling his sides – ‘from where I’m sitting you don’t look to be able to destroy anyone.’ He doesn’t say he looks pretty all beaming eyes and laughter, messed-up hair, but he notices that he does. Then he notices that he always does.

Ronan is still laughing, but then he stops and stares at Adam. The sun is behind his face and his hair looks golden. He’s smiling and he looks— _God_ , Ronan _stop_.

Adam stops tickling him, his hands still resting on his hips. He’s still straddling him but for a moment he doesn’t think about that, he’s just staring at Ronan below him; messy curls, red cheeks, wide eyes.

They stare at each other and both swallow hard at the same time. Ronan thinks about how this very well might kill him; the sight of Adam all angelic and divine above him, and he wants to—he wants to do what he promised himself not to think about. _Don’t make it weird_.

He slightly pushes Adam, swallowing again, but stubbornly not closing his eyes.

Adam rolls over and lays down on the ground, ashamed. Ronan had looked so, so pretty and he had wanted to kiss him and that was— _don’t_. Stop ruining everything, Adam.

Ronan coughs, then awkwardly points at a cloud, ‘that’s an upside down tree with a dodo dancing on top.’

‘ _No_ ,’ Adam says, trying to keep his voice steady and not choke on how much he hates himself. Diffuse the tension. Stop making things _awkward_. ‘It’s an apple at best,’ he says, forcing his voice not to shake.

  
Inside again, they’re on Ronan’s bed; Ronan with his head in Adam’s lap and Adam reading aloud from _Alice in Wonderland_.

‘ _Which way you ought to go depends on where you want to get to_ ,’ he reads and Ronan looks up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. He’s swallowed up in the reading, words falling quickly and effortlessly from his lips, drawing Ronan in. He could listen to him read forever.

Adam continues reading, voice smooth and sweet. He looks away from the page for a second and looks down on Ronan, notices a stray curl in his face and he softly pushes it away. Then he turns his attention back to the page, continuing absentmindedly playing with Ronan’s hair.

Ronan feels like dying – the combination of Adam’s soft voice and his fingers tangled in his hair is making his mind spin with imagines of things he promised himself never to think about again. He tells himself to _stop_ thinking about this.

He realises that in order to stop thinking about this, he’ll have to abandon this whole scene. He opens his eyes and sits up awkwardly.

Adam stops reading in the middle of a word and looks confused at Ronan. He smiles at him and Adam’s features quickly melt into something softer again, a smile. ‘You look sleepy,’ he says. ‘It’s a good look.’

Ronan blushes and looks away. Did Adam just— _compliment_ him?

‘Do you want to continue reading?’ he asks, looking sincerely at Ronan.

Ronan just nods in reply and leans his head against the wall.

 

When Adam leaves the Barns he’s so happy because the entire day had been amazing; he realises he’d been downright _flirting_ with him – and it’d been— _God_. Maybe they could really—maybe Ronan likes him back? Maybe Ronan thinks about kissing Adam as much as Adam thinks about kissing Ronan, maybe—

Then it hits him, Ronan never looked at him immediately after Adam said something. He brushed Ronan’s hair away from his face while he read and then he _kept on touching it_ and Ronan scooted away and _God_ , Adam is the _worst_ and—

‘FUCK!’ he screams, stopping his bike in the middle of the road. ‘FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!’ he repeats, falling to the ground and just sitting there with his head in his hands. _Fuck_ , he thinks. How did he just think Ronan might’ve liked him _back_?

He keeps thinking about it the whole way home, replaying everything that had happened the day and how in _every_ scenario, Adam had been the one to do or say something and Ronan had just _been_ there and—

Ronan will think he’s disgusting, he thinks while lying in his bed, and he starts silently crying. He’s mastered the art of crying with no sound so he doesn’t wake his parents and they don’t _realise_ and he’s doing it now. He can’t stop, he tries so hard to _stop_ , but the tears keep falling and he’s sobbing and he can’t _breathe_ , and what if Ronan finds out and _hates_ me, why do I ruin everything, why do I have to ruin _everything_ , I had this _one good thing_ and I mess everything _up_. Mom and dad are right, I was never good for _anything_ , why do I even _try_ , and I had _one good thing_ , and I had to go ahead and destroy that too just by _being_ and by being _me_ and _why_ —?

He keeps crying, mentally cursing himself, deprecating himself in every way, wondering why he’s _like_ this and why he’s such a _failure_.

  
Ronan’s lying in his bed, mentally replaying the whole day as well. He thinks about how Adam told him he had pretty eyes, and how he’d straddled him in the field, and how he’d _winked_ at him when Ronan had told him to blow him and— _stop thinking about this_ , he thinks, trying to ignore how much he’s blushing.

Ronan, you are _not_ going to think about this, he thinks, but then—he’s in his room, and he’s alone, and nobody has to know, and—he knows Adam didn’t mean it like that and was just fucking around but for a second he pretends he did and lets himself believe that, lets himself live in some fantasy world where Adam could like him back.

He falls asleep smiling because the day was _fantastic._

 

* * *

 

‘I noticed your initials down at the tree,’ Declan says, and Ronan does not like where this is going. Thankfully Adam isn’t there so maybe it’ll be all right.

‘You forgot the heart though.’ He smirks at him and Ronan, to his horror, feels himself blushing. ‘ _Stop_ ,’ he says. ‘I hate you.’

Adam comes in then and dumps down on the couch beside Ronan. ‘Hi,’ he says, smiling at him.

‘Hi Adam,’ Ronan says, smiling back at him. Declan had pushed his buttons but Adam is there now so he feels his mood brighten again

‘Yeah, tell your boyfriend all about how much you hate me,’ Declan says, winking at Ronan. Ronan feels his mood darken again and he furrows his eyebrows.

‘Stop,’ he repeats, looking at Declan.

‘Or what?’ Declan asks, grinning at him, challenging him.

‘Shut up,’ Ronan says. ‘I don’t care about you. Mom says it’s because you’re a _teenager_ and it’s _homophones_ and you’re just _being mean_.’

‘Might be hormones,’ Declan says, looking slightly bored. ‘But at least I’m real about who I’m making out with.’

‘ _Stop_ ,’ Ronan says again, and he’ll blame his red cheeks on anger if anyone asked. Nobody’s going to ask. ‘Fuck you. I’m not making out with _anyone_ , I _hate_ you.’

‘Bet you’d like to though, wouldn’t you,’ Declan says, smirking at his little brother. He looks over at Adam, then back at Ronan. His point isn’t lost on any of them.

‘Fuck you,’ Ronan repeats. ‘Fuck _you_.’

‘Ronan and I aren’t–’ Adam stutters out, wanting to disappear. This is embarrassing and he’s going to ruin _everything_ , why couldn’t he just _not_ blush? Why couldn’t he just _not_ want to kiss Ronan? ‘Ronan and I aren’t dating,’ he finishes and Declan looks at him, still with that slightly bored look, then raises his eyebrow as if to say _sure_. ‘Whatever you say,’ he drawls, lazily lying down on the couch.

‘I hate you,’ Ronan says and he sounds pissed off.

He knows it’s—a joke, and Declan’s only joking, but Ronan’s _anger_ and—Adam wants to disappear, really. And it’s not even—like, he gets it. Who would want to be teased about kissing _him_ , that’s a repulsive though so of _course_ and the fact that so far he’d kind of liked it whenever Declan called him Ronan’s boyfriend because it meant he could pretend it was real, and he liked the sound of it, and that’s _creepy_ and he’s a _freak_ and—

‘I don’t care,’ Declan laughs at him.

‘Call Adam my boyfriend _one more time_ and I’ll tell mom what you did with Ashley on the beach.’

Declan smiles wickedly at him. ‘Tell your boyfriend I’m not scared of you.’

Ronan screams, then turns on his heel and runs into the house to tell Aurora.

‘Mom,’ he yells. ‘Remember when we were at the beach? Right OK so when Dec disappeared he was behind this rock making out with Ashley, and he’s pushed me down a hill, and he threw my Gameboy at the ground, and he keeps saying I’m _gross_ , and he teases me about being bad at math, and remember that time he pretended he was going to teach Adam and me to play soccer but he just fucked around and made us run ourselves to death, and he’s actually always mean, and he has a _girlfriend_ and–’

Half the things he says aren’t even true but he doesn’t _care_. He’s angry at Declan, angry at him for pushing it and _constantly_ calling Adam his boyfriend and teasing him about that because—and he doesn’t want to admit it but because it’s what he actually really _wants_ but can never have, and can never tell, and the fact that Declan is so _in his face_ about it _hurts_ because it’s like—for a second he’s made to believe that _maybe_ and then it all comes crashing down that _no_ and—

So he makes up accusations. He says he’s pushed him down a hill, he says he’s drawn gross things on the barn even though it was actually Ronan himself who drew those, he says he’s bullied him about the ADHD and school and math.

Aurora stares at Ronan in confusion for a minute, then turns around and marches outside. ‘Declan Lynch,’ Ronan hears her call and he feels a small stab of guilt, figures he probably took this too far. But it was Declan’s own fault. He _warned_ him—if he called Adam his boyfriend one more time he’d tell mom about Ashley. So he hadn’t warned about all the rest and about making things up but still. He deserved this. Ronan tells himself Dec deserved this.

  
Declan is grounded for three weeks and has taken both his laptop and phone away.

‘I hate you,’ he spits out when he passes Ronan. ‘Your boyfriend is _shit_ ,’ he says to Adam.

  
At dinner that evening, while passing around plates, Aurora bluntly states that she won’t tolerate more of Declan teasing Adam and Ronan.

‘It’s not funny,’ she says. ‘And if, hypothetically, Adam and Ronan _wanted_ , it would be perfectly fine. I’d of course want someone as sweet as Adam for Ronan. But I don’t want to hear any of you,’ she stares at first Declan, then her husband, ‘tease them more about this. It’s making them upset. They’ve said they’re not dating and that’s that.’

Adam is there, blushing furiously and not knowing where to look. He’s avoiding eye contact and just looking sternly down at his plate.

Ronan is mad, but also kind of grateful. Annoyed that she’s bringing this up and bringing attention to it but glad that she’s officially telling Declan to _stop_. Hopefully, he will.

Declan doesn’t dare smirk but he does want to.

Matthew is grinning widely, and pushes Ronan’s arm and asks, ‘did you hear that, Ro?’ when Aurora said it would be absolutely all right if they _did_ want to date. Ronan glares at him. He’s _not_ having his little brother blow everything just as Aurora finally is putting an end to all of it.

She clears her throat. ‘And for dessert,’ she says. ‘There are cinnamon rolls.’

  
Declan and Ronan don’t speak for four days. The silence is tense and hostile and they shoot deathly glares at each other whenever they’re forced to be in the same room. Ronan was beginning to feel guilty and bad about lying to his mom but then Declan’s anger was so tangible and his hatred so _there_ that reciprocating was easy enough and he no longer wanted to apologise.

They both break, finally, when Aurora sits them down on the couch and tell them to work it out.

‘Sorry, but I’d rather not,’ Declan says, sternly looking at his mother and not Ronan.

Aurora stares at him, clearly unimpressed.

‘I’m sorry,’ Ronan says quietly, looking at the ground. ‘I shouldn’t have said all that to mom but—yeah. Sorry.’

Declan looks over at him. ‘Why did you do it?’ he asks. ‘You knew I didn’t _mean_ it.’

‘Yeah,’ Ronan says, thinking: that’s exactly why I did it. Because you made it seem so real when it’s _not_. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says instead.

 

* * *

 

‘Adam,’ Matthew and Ronan scream in unison the next time he comes over. ‘Rotavator is having a calf,’ Matthew says, giggling and bouncing on his feet.

‘Do you want to name it?’ Ronan asks. ‘We’ve all named one, so it’s your turn.’

 _They have all_ —Adam thinks, letting the words sink in. _It’s your turn._ That whole sentence assumed that Adam was part of the family, that Adam was—thought of as one of _them_ , as someone _good_ , loved, almost.

He chokes and swallows the lump in his throat, fights down traitorous tears; _you’re not going to cry_.

‘Do you—is that—are you–?’ he stutters out, looking first at Ronan, then Matthew, then back at Ronan.

‘Do you want to name our new calf?’ Ronan asks. ‘It was mom’s idea. It would be cool, you better start thinking.’

‘You’re sure–’ Adam says, trying to comprehend how it’d been Aurora’s idea. How an _adult_ would value Adam’s opinion and thoughts and even _want_ them, how—how _foreign_ a concept that is.

  
‘So what’s it going to be?’ Ronan says. They’re all sitting around the new-born calf; Matthew and Ronan both grinning so wide their faces might break.

Adam smiles up at him, softly. ‘Seal,’ he says quietly.

‘It’s a _cow_ ,’ Matthew says, looking very confused at Adam. ‘Exactly,’ he says. ‘So it’s another animal to trick everyone.’

‘That’s really weird,’ Matthew says sincerely. ‘You’re really weird, Adam. I like you a lot.’

‘I like you a lot too,’ Adam smiles at him.

‘No offence,’ Declan says. ‘But I don’t believe that’s why you’re naming it Seal.’ He smirks at him and arches his eyebrow. Adam blushes and looks at the ground. ‘It is,’ he says. ‘Why else would I—it’s just a name anyway.’

‘Sure,’ Declan says, grinning. Ronan punches his shoulder. ‘Shut the fuck up, Dec,’ he says.

Declan smirks at both of them and looks over at his dad, raising his eyebrow. Niall looks back at him and returns the gesture.

‘Niall,’ Aurora’s stern voice sounds. ‘Stop.’

‘Stop what, love?’ he asks, voice as innocent as Matthew’s.

‘You _know_ ,’ she says. ‘You too, Declan.’

‘Yes ma’am,’ he says, saluting her. He shoots Ronan a final look before he stops smirking and then looks back at his youngest little brother.

‘Matthew,’ Declan says. ‘Do you want me to completely _obliterate_ you in Mario Kart?’


	7. Fourteen years old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaaa yesterday it was lovely lovely [jemma](http://alrightlupin.tumblr.com/)'s birthday so this chap is dedicated 2 her, shes a sweetheart !!!! i hope yall like it & life is treating u well! xx
> 
> p.s. this chap got a little longer than the others so far i hope that's all right

It’s not even February, but Adam’s already stressing about the next school year. Start of high school. He’s supposed to just go to the public school like the other kids in his class but – he keeps thinking about how he wants—no, he _needs_ —to do something _more_ , how he needs to get out and make something of himself. He promised himself he would _make_ something of himself, he’d do like Lewis, he _promised_.

He knows Ronan’s going to start at some fancy, expensive school and that’s what Adam wants but—money. He doesn’t have the money for that and he’s not in the business of asking his parents to finance anything. It’d be pointless anyway. Even if they _had_ money to spare, they’d never spend it on Adam’s education.

Even college—his parents would never waste money on that, but he doesn’t just _want_ to go—he needs it. He needs to.

But money—he needs to get a job. If he starts now, and if he continues working throughout getting a degree, and takes a loan, it could—maybe.

He’s—he’s not fourteen yet, which is why he’s stressing right now, because he can’t get a job yet. He needs to, but he _can’t_ —yet.

Maybe there are scholarships; maybe he can apply for one such, maybe—

‘Which high school are you going to?’ he asks Ronan one day.

‘Dunno,’ he says. ‘I think it’s called Aglionby or something.’

‘OK,’ Adam says, thinking he can look it up on the library’s computer later. He still has time—it’s not even February.

 

* * *

 

After much googling and debating whether he could really do it – and second guessing whether he really _deserves_ it, whether he could really _belong_ – Adam gets in touch with Aglionby Academy’s financial aid department.

He bikes there and all the way he rethinks the decision because he’s _biking_ and he knows everyone else on Aglionby would _never_ —

But he gets there and he gets inside and he gets to have a conversation with a staff member. They talk about scholarships and he’s told that they can offer a maximum of 60% support; the remaining 40 he will have to pay out of his own pocket.

He doesn’t have that kind of money. He tells them that, boiling red shame and anger, embarrassment and _of course—how could you ever think yourself worthy enough for this place?_

They come to an agreement: he can come back next year, if he’s able to pay the fee then. He can take freshman year in the public school system, which will allow him to not fall too much behind.

He leaves, after repeatedly expressing his gratitude, but all the way home he hates himself, hates his family, hates the double-wide and everything it stands for, everything it entails—hates how he’ll never amount in the same way as Ronan will because of his _parents_. And they say social mobility is a reality, and your fate and future is no longer predestined based on your parents’ jobs, well _fuck that_.

It isn’t real for shit.

He’s going to work his ass off though, he’s going to get straight A’s in public school, get another job, save up, he’s going to _make it_ — he’s going to make it out. He’s going to make it out, and what doesn’t kill you doesn’t make you stronger, but he’s going to—he’s going to survive, he’s going to _make it_. No matter the cost.

 

* * *

 

The day he turns 14, Adam bikes to the nearest garage and asks if they’re hiring.

The mechanic who’s at work looks at him, clearly sceptical about what this young guy’s doing there. ‘Depends…’ he says. ‘Who’s asking?’

‘I am,’ Adam says, biting down the sarcasm.

Adam feels his excruciating glance on him, as he looks him over again. ‘Do you know anything about cars?’ he asks, raising his eyebrow.

‘Yes,’ Adam says. ‘I do. I know everything you’ll need me to and I’m underage so I’m cheaper to hire than someone else a couple of years older that would have the exact same knowledge as I do. I’ll prove myself.’

‘All right,’ the man says, clearly looking torn between being impressed and laughing out loud. He holds the tool in his hand out for Adam to take. ‘Show me what you’re made of, kid.’

 

* * *

 

‘We’re going to Ireland for the summer,’ Ronan tells excitedly. ‘Do you want to come?’

Adam stares at him in disbelief, wondering if Ronan’s joking or if he’s really that ridiculous. ‘Are you for real?’ he settles on asking.

‘Yes,’ Ronan says, still smiling but looking mildly confused. ‘If you want to come, you can!’

‘I can’t,’ Adam says. ‘Obviously.’

‘Oh,’ Ronan says. He knew this, _obviously_ , but at the same time he’d hoped that Adam would somehow have been able to come anyway, so the answer does surprise him, but not as much as it saddens him. Ronan’s never been outside the US before but he _has_ travelled around in it and he knows Adam hasn’t. Ronan doesn’t think Adam’s ever even been outside Henrietta – and he deserves to, doesn’t he? He deserves to come with them to Ireland, he _does_.

But he can’t.

‘Yeah,’ Ronan says. ‘I mean—I get it, but still—I would’ve loved it if you could come. We all would.’

Adam takes a second to let that sink in – he’s becoming more, if not comfortable, at least more at ease with the Lynches showing any kind of affection. He loves the Lynches, he does, it’s more the—the _repayment_ of that, the fact that the love is mutual—that’s what unsettles him, what surprises him time and time again. They’ve shown him love before, have previously openly considered him part of the family, and yet every time they do it, he’s shocked to the core—it’s still foreign, still weird, still—

‘I would’ve loved it too,’ he says, smiling sadly at Ronan. ‘One day, maybe we can go.’

‘One day,’ Ronan says. ‘We’re going. Like it or not.’ He grins at Adam and Adam smiles back. ‘I’ll like it,’ he says. ‘I’ll love it.’

‘I mean it,’ Ronan says. ‘I want to road trip the world with you. You know, feet on the dashboard, loud music, wind in your hair, trashy motel rooms, and junk food.’

Adam smiles fondly at him, imagining the scenario. ‘That sounds good,’ Adam says, thinking: _one day, I’ll make it out of here. One day, this can happen. It will, it will, it will._ He says: ‘I can’t wait’ and Ronan grins at him, holding up his fist for Adam to bump his to. ‘It’s going to be the fucking sickest,’ he says.

‘When are you leaving?’ Adam asks, wondering how long they have left.

‘Two weeks after school’s out,’ Ronan says. ‘And then it’s for _six whole weeks._ ’

‘Wow,’ Adam says. ‘It’s going to be fantastic.’

‘I know,’ Ronan says. ‘I can’t wait.’

  
They have to leave early for the airport so Adam and Ronan have to say their goodbyes the day before. Adam comes over already in the morning and they spend the whole day just _being_. They don’t do anything exceptional or go anywhere; they just _are_ —together.

It’s the first time since they met they’re going to be apart for this long; really, it’s the first time they’re going to be apart for more than ten days. It’s a strange feeling – they’ve been AdamandRonan so long it’s going to be odd being Adam on one side of the world and Ronan on the other.

Especially, because Adam doesn’t have a cell phone. Ronan got one for his thirteenth birthday last year but Adam doesn’t have one so they’re _really_ going to be apart – they can’t text or call, for _six weeks_. It’s going to be—strange. Weird. Very, very different.

They’re not exactly _sad_ yet though, don’t feel all hollowed out and empty and _oh no_ – but Adam thinks it’s probably because the realisation hasn’t really hit him yet. Right now, Ronan’s still right in front of him, they’re still together, and the whole concept of being apart for so long is so _alien_ that he can’t really comprehend it—yet. Because he’s going to have to. The Lynches _are_ leaving and they _are_ going to be on opposite sides of the world for one and a half month – but they’re coming back.

It’s not forever, it’s not even for that long, but still—it feels weird.

Ronan’s lying on the floor with his legs up against the wall and Adam is sitting cross-legged on the bed. ‘I’m going to miss you,’ he says, looking down at Ronan. Ronan turns his head and looks up at Adam flashes him a smile. ‘I’m going to miss you too fucko,’ he grins. ‘Let’s not do all the sappy shit though because I’m punk and crying will ruin my rep.’

Adam rolls his eyes but he can’t hide the fond smile. ‘You are a massive loser,’ Adam says. ‘Did you literally just hint that “doing the sappy shit” would make you cry, though?’

‘Shut up, I didn’t,’ Ronan says, looking the other way. ‘Crying is for losers.’

‘How appropriate, then,’ Adam deadpans. ‘Since you, the resident biggest loser–’

‘Shut up, Parrish,’ Ronan says, getting up from the floor and hovering over Adam. ‘It’s like you _want_ me to fuck you up.’

Adam raises his eyebrow before Ronan says the last word and smirks at him. ‘What are you suggesting, _Lynch_?’ he asks.

‘God, I can’t wait for fucking Ireland,’ Ronan says. ‘Six weeks without your snarky oh-so-funny remarks.’

‘Sure,’ Adam says, smiling softly and letting his head drop back against the wall. ‘Mr “crying will ruin my rep.”’

‘So I’m going to miss you, what do you want?’ Ronan says, finally dumping down beside Adam and laying his head on his lap. He looks up at him for a second, and then closes his eyes.

‘Nothing,’ Adam says and means it. ‘Just this.’

‘God,’ Ronan says, opening his eyes just to roll them at him. ‘I told you not to do the sappy shit.’

‘Yeah,’ Adam says. ‘Sorry.’

A couple of minutes pass where none of them say anything. Ronan’s eyes are closed and Adam isn’t sure whether he’s falling asleep or still awake. His features soften when he’s relaxed; usually he’s sharp edges and wild eyes and looking like he could mess you up but when they’re alone and his eyes are closed and his face is all— _soft_ —Adam loves wild, messy, reckless Ronan but he also love quiet, peaceful Ronan.

He stirs and opens his eyes slowly, blinking up at Adam. His voice is quiet when he says, ‘ceapaim go bhfuilim i ngrá leat.’

‘What?’ Adam says, recognising how it sounded like Irish but not able to pinpoint what Ronan had said.

‘Nothing,’ Ronan says, closing his eyes. ‘Just said you looked like a loser.’

Adam chuckles, lets his head drop back again and tangles his fingers in Ronan’s hair. ‘You too,’ he says. ‘You too…’

  
Ronan sleeps half of the plane trip there and the other half using all the battery on his old Gameboy replaying Mario.

‘Matthew,’ he says when they’re six hours in. ‘I can’t win this level.’

Matthew wins it for him. ‘I can’t believe you’re so _bad_ at this,’ he says, handing the Gameboy back and smiling at his big brother. ‘Adam would’ve won this on first try.’

‘Shut up,’ Ronan says. ‘I know.’

‘Do you miss him?’ he asks in a quiet voice, looking up at Ronan with wide eyes.

‘Yeah,’ Ronan says. ‘But not that much yet, I guess. Like, I think I’m going to miss him _more_ , you know?’

‘Yeah,’ Matthew nods. ‘I’m going to miss him too. You know,’ he adds as an afterthought. ‘If you don’t date him, I will.’

It takes less than a second for Ronan’s cheeks to turn bright red. Matthew doesn’t look affected but just looks at Ronan with honest eyes.

‘Shut up,’ Ronan says, elbowing Matthew in the side. His Gameboy is still paused. ‘Adam doesn’t even _like_ me like that.’

Matthew raises his eyebrow and slowly leans in. ‘Do you _like_ like Adam?’

Ronan squirms, bites his lip, and looks away. He _hates_ lying, but he also doesn’t know if he can tell the truth. He hasn’t really fully admitted the truth to himself yet, much less someone else. ‘I don’t know,’ he whispers, which he thinks an all right compromise. ‘Maybe?’ he says it like a question and looks at Matthew like he’s hoping he’ll figure it out for him.

Matthew grins up at him and bounces in his seat. ‘You know,’ he says, still keeping his voice quiet enough so it’s only Ronan who can hear. This is _their_ conversation; Matthew is old enough to recognise that this is secret. ‘I think Adam _likes_ likes you too.’ He looks proudly up at Ronan.

Ronan’s heart skips a beat because—what if—and _maybe_ —and—‘He doesn’t,’ Ronan says, balling his hand into a fist and looking the other way for a second. ‘So it doesn’t matter anyway.’

‘How do you know?’ Matthew asks and he has the decency to look legitimately _confused_. ‘You remember once I said Adam looked at you like he liked you? Well, he does.’

‘Whatever,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes. ‘What do you know anyway, you’re not even twelve.’

‘If you don’t date him, I will,’ Matthew repeats, leaning back in his seat again.

Ronan clears his throat and his mind, thinks of something else to talk about. ‘Are you going to miss someone?’ he asks.

‘Gonna miss Brandon probably,’ Matthew says thoughtfully. ‘I’d miss mom if she wasn’t coming but she is so it’s all right.’

‘Brandon is your best friend, right?’

‘Yeah,’ Matthew says, nodding slowly, his face breaking into a large smile.

‘Matthew,’ Ronan whispers wickedly, leaning in closer to his brother. ‘Do you _like_ like Brandon?’

Matthew doesn’t say anything for a while, looks thoughtfully and curiously at Ronan who’s still smiling. ‘I probably do,’ Matthew says then. ‘I mean, he’s really cute.’

Ronan smiles at him; at first surprised by the _ease_ with which Matthew said that, like he wasn’t worried or scared or ashamed or _mad_ at himself, and then frustrated because he himself can’t—because it’s _different_ , for some reason. He doesn’t know why it’s different for Matthew than for him but he knows that it _is_.

‘Do you think Brandon _likes_ likes you too?’ he asks instead, voice quiet.

Matthew looks to be considering it for a moment, and then turns in his seat and smiles widely at Ronan. ‘Maybe he does,’ he says. ‘I guess I’ll have to ask him.’

Matthew actually looks like he’s going to do it – as if it’s that easy, as if he can just—Ronan suddenly wouldn’t mind if the plane crashed.

  
Uncle Rick is in the airport to pick them up. Niall sets his bag down and goes to hug him.

Siobhan is there too and she eyes Ronan up suspiciously. ‘Hello,’ she says. ‘You still look like a loser.’

‘Feisigh do thoin fein,’ Ronan says, syllables rolling easily off his tongue. ‘I cross the _Atlantic_ and people still call me loser. I’m out of here.’

‘Makes you wonder, huh,’ Siobhan says, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing tight. ‘Nice to see you again.’

‘Nice to see you too,’ Ronan says, smiling as he hugs her back.

Siobhan moves on to hug her other cousins and Ronan gets the chance to look at his uncle. He doesn’t look very different since he visited them a couple of years ago – suddenly, Ronan’s overwhelmed by the memory of realising he had a _boyfriend_ and asking his mom if that—if that was a _thing_ and how that night he’d—and then _promised_ himself not to think more about it but now, here he are, suddenly remembering full force _exactly_ what realisation he came to that night.

He feels his cheeks flame up, looks down at the ground and curses silently.

‘Hi Ronan,’ Rick says, moving over to him and smiling at him. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m good,’ Ronan says, swallowing down and _ignoring_ those other thoughts and just focuses on his uncle. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m _great_ ,’ he smiles. ‘We have a surprise for you all when you come back to ma.’

The drive home passes quickly; insults and stories traded easily between them all, Siobhan telling about a school project she got a great grade for and her new boyfriend, Matthew telling about the church choir and how Ronan’s still hopelessly awful at Mario Kart.

The entire family is in the kitchen waiting for them to arrive; Ronan’s grandmother, his other cousins, uncles, and aunts. Everyone hug each other as they smile and laugh and punch shoulders.

‘So,’ Uncle Rick says, looking over at Jeffrey, when they’re all seated by the table with coffee and Grandma Lynch’s best cakes. ‘About that surprise…’

Everyone goes quiet and looks at them.

Jeffrey chuckles nervously and looks at Rick. ‘I asked him to marry me,’ he says and pauses for a second. ‘He said yes.’

He looks back at the others who are all freaking out, jumping up from the chairs, clapping and cheering.

‘You didn’t _tell_ me,’ Niall says, deliriously getting over to them to hug his brother. ‘Congratulations. This is amazing, congratulations.’

‘We’d be honoured if you’d all come to the wedding,’ Rick says. ‘It’s kind of short notice but it’s in two weeks.’

Niall’s mom quietly wipes tears away from her eyes, then gets up to hug Jeffrey tightly. ‘You’re a good man,’ she says quietly and Ronan almost can’t hear. ‘You make him very happy.’

‘I love him,’ Ronan hears Jeffrey say back.

She moves on to her son and hugs her tight. ‘Congratulations,’ she whispers into his hair. ‘I am so happy for you.’

‘Thanks ma,’ Rick says, voice wet. ‘I love you.’

Ronan is sitting there, taking it all in, his family freaking out and yelling and being happy and throwing cake at the wall because _how in the hell_ and _when was this decided_ and _why didn’t you tell_? He thinks it’s the most beautiful thing and he realises that one day he’d probably like to have it, too – he’s never thought about the future much, getting married, kids, all that stuff, but all this; his family being happy and congratulating and _cheering_ and he aches with how much he’d want this. And he realises, if it did ever happen, it’d be more like Rick’s wedding than his parents’. He remembers how mom said anyone he loves is all right and he can see everyone’s reaction to Rick and Jeffrey but still – but still there’s something inside of him that’s still—and it’s weird because he _loves_ Rick and he’s so happy about this and he didn’t flinch when Matthew said he maybe had a crush on Brandon, that’s all _OK_ , but for some reason it’s—for some reason it’s _different_ for himself. He can’t explain it. Maybe it’s because the realisation is so intricately tangled together with his feelings for Adam – maybe it’s not liking _boys_ that’s wrong maybe it’s liking _Adam_.

He doesn’t know. But he figures he can deal with it _later_ – right now they’re going to sing and scream and celebrate and be _happy_ and there’s a wedding coming up and he’s in Ireland for _six weeks_ , he’s going to enjoy it, it’s going to be _good_.

So he likes Adam. It’s not that big of a deal anyway. There are millions of movies about best friends falling in love and living happily ever after. It’s all right.

Except it’s really, really not.

  
Aidan takes Ronan out with him to shop. ‘You’re old now,’ he says. ‘And you’ve started working out. You need new _ladykiller_ clothes!’

Ronan doesn’t argue though Aidan’s comment unsettles him a bit – he doesn’t need _ladykiller_ clothes, he doesn’t—why would he—he doesn’t even want to kiss girls. But maybe – and this is a big _maybe_ , it’s such a bad thought he can barely even _think_ it – if girls would find this _hot_ , maybe—Adam would also—and no. Stop all these thoughts, Ronan, you’ll _never_ move on if you keep _thinking_ like this.

Aidan picks out black jeans, muscle tees, combat boots, and other things he makes Ronan try on. He feels kind of awkward at first, seeing his reflection and feeling the _different_ clothing on his skin, but after some time he comes to actually like it—the reflection, himself even. He might not want to pick up girls like Aidan assumes but he does—it feels strange saying it but fuck that he looks good.

They buy a suit too, for the wedding. Ronan feels weird in it, claustrophobic and restricted, he feels all grown-up and it’s a strange feeling. Because he isn’t, and doesn’t really want to be, but seeing himself like this gives the impression that he’s going to be really soon.

  
Back in Henrietta, Adam is working himself half to death. He got the job at the garage and he picks up as many shifts as possible and besides that he walks a couple of the neighbours’ dogs – which he doesn’t really consider real _work_ because it’s relaxing and he loves the dogs.

With Ronan gone, everything is different. He can’t escape to the Barns every time he just needs to get _out_ of the trailer – and he needs to, often. He hates it there. Not just the—not just his dad beating him but the whole _atmosphere_ is suffocating, it’s destroying him. With Ronan around, things are all right because he reminds him he’s real, he’s human, he’s _good_. The Lynches remind him that he is lovable – and that he is able to love. They remind him love can be a good thing, can not-hurt, can leave no bruises anywhere. His mom’s silent looks, her sighs, her— _everything_ a reminder of how _wrong_ Adam is. With Ronan around, he’s reminded that he’s not _all_ bad _._ Or, well, he _is_ , but—but that some people are capable of seeing all that _bad_ and deciding to stay anyway—deciding to like all the bad.

He picks up work everywhere and every time he can – he has nothing else to do and he’s saving up, he needs the money.

And of course, he _misses_ Ronan. It feels like a hollow ache in his chest, like there’s a physical part of his body missing. He keeps a mental countdown, every day he wakes up and his first thought is about when Ronan will be back: only thirty-three days, only thirty-two, only twenty-four.

He misses him so much he thinks he might explode.

Some nights, when the _miss_ is overwhelming and he can’t stop thinking about him he—he promised himself it wouldn’t ever happen again, but Ronan isn’t around so he doesn’t feel as guilty about it because he won’t have to see him again the next day, won’t have to look him in the eyes _knowing_ what happened last night, he—he keeps telling himself it’s OK, it’s just a crush, it doesn’t matter, and he’ll never _know_ , and doesn’t this just mean he’s normal? Everyone always talks about it like it’s something everyone does, so it’s—he’s all right, right? He’s not—so he fucks into his own hand thinking about his best friend who’s thousand of miles away and swallows down guilt and everything else, remorse and shame, it’s OK, Ronan’s not around, it’s—it won’t happen again.

  
While Ronan’s gone, Adam writes letters to him. He writes them in his journal and doesn’t plan on ever giving them to Ronan but the double-wide is too much, his life is too much, he _misses_ him, and he just—needs to let it out somehow.

 

_Dear Ronan,_ he writes.

_There are thirty days till you’ll be back. I miss you a lot._

_I spend most of my time working at the garage. It’s kind of hard work; I have to move around heavy stuff but it’s all right. It’s money. Boyd said he was impressed because not many my age has this much knowledge – say thanks to your dad for me. I’ll say it myself as well. I really like your dad, Ronan. I wish my dad was like him._

_Working under the hood of cars, having to roll underneath them to find some flaw, being covered in grease and oil and sweat – I think you’d find it hilarious how much it’s like the intro to a bad low-budget porn. Fuck, why did I write that? Ignore that. We’re not going there._

_Anyway, I don’t sleep a lot because I pick up as many shifts as possible, walk dogs, and I spend all nights reading and studying. I’ve been rereading ASOUE and every sentence reminds me of you._

_God, why do I keep ending up somehow confessing my shitty love through these letters?_

_Well, you’ll never read this anyway so I might as well—_

_Fuck, I’m shaking. My hand is shaking, I don’t know if I can actually write this, even though you’re never going to see it_

_The truth is, I like you. A lot. I want to kiss you and I want to sleep next to you and holy God I want to hold your hand. I want so much. I am trying to stop wanting, I promise I am. I’m sorry. I wish I could stop. I’m going to try harder; I’m not going to mess up this one good thing I have._

_You’re the only good thing I have._

_All my love,_

_Adam_

  
Because Ronan is nothing if not a masochist, he spends ages lying in his bed with earplugs in, staring at the wall. He tells himself it’s inappropriate to listen to the same sad songs on repeat for hours on end and forces himself to press _play_ on some upbeat and electronic music but somehow he ends up back with the other songs.

_It feels like there are oceans between you and me. I want you and I always will. I wish I was worth, but I know what you deserve._

He hits pause, scrolls through his tracks and finds another song or else he might start crying and he _can’t_. It’s gross enough as it is; him lying here, having some shitty crush on his best friend, the most gorgeous boy in the world, love songs reminding him of him. Adam deserves someone better, someone good, someone—someone _not_ Ronan.

So Ronan needs to stop listening to this song because otherwise he’ll choke on how not good enough he is.

  
The wedding is beautiful. Everyone tears up and smiles and laughs; Niall gives a speech, both Rick and Jeffrey give a speech. It’s in the garden and there are flowers everywhere. There’s a man from the government to officiate it and Ronan eyes him up sceptically. If he’s going to start shit, he’ll fight him. He will. He doesn’t care, if he’s going to start on something about how their love isn’t real, he will fight him.

Loud music and classy alcohol and countless of people there _happy_ for them. Cheering and congratulating and giving presents; cards and flowers and inside jokes made gifts.

They sing too. A cappella and with Niall on guitar, humming and singing old hymns and love songs. Siobhan and Matthew standing on their chairs singing as loud and bright as they can and everybody else dead silent listening to them.

When Aurora silently cries, Matthew looks at her with wide eyes and asks why.

‘Because I’m very happy,’ she says. ‘And it’s very beautiful.’

‘So it’s not sad tears?’ he asks, crawling into her lap and slinging his arms around her neck.

‘It’s not sad tears,’ she whispers, smiling. ‘I’m very, very happy for them. And if any of you were to ever get married I’d also be very, very happy for you.’

‘I don’t know if I want to get married,’ Matthew says. ‘Maybe I’ll marry Brandon.’

‘As long as you are happy, I’ll be very, very happy,’ Aurora says very slowly, locking eyes with him. ‘It doesn’t matter if you get married or you don’t or which gender the person you love has.’

Ronan is sitting three seats down but he’s paying so close attention he hears every word they say. He doesn’t choke and he doesn’t fight back tears.

_Dear Ronan,_

_A list of the moments I have felt like I would die if I didn’t kiss you:_

  * _When you carved our initials into the tree and you said we’d be best friends forever._
  * _At the beach when you taught me to swim._
  * _When we played Twister with Matthew and I accidentally ended up on top of you and you bit your lip and your hair was all messy and you looked so good, I wanted to swallow the sun. ~~I didn’t land on you by accident.~~ _
  * _Later that day, when we were watching the clouds and I tickled you and straddled you and you were below me with red cheeks and you looked so—God, I don’t know. I thought I was going to die._
  * _Every time Declan called me your boyfriend – to shut up him up. And because I wanted to._
  * _When you won your first tennis match and you looked on top of the world, the white shirt sticking to your skin, grinning like nothing could touch you. That night, I touched myself for the first time and I know I shouldn’t have but—_
  * _So many times when I stayed over the whole weekend. If there was ever any doubt, it was the best weekend of my life. I woke up at night and curled into your body and pretended it was an accident when we woke up. I don’t know how many times I can keep pulling the accident card…_
  * _Every time you swear._
  * _Every year when you remember my birthday._
  * _When you told your dad to leave me alone when I didn’t want him to teach me how to fight._
  * _I don’t think you’re aware of just how much you bite your lips. I am._
  * _When your family was visiting and Siobhan and I teamed up to prove you’re a loser. Matthew is right, by the way. About me liking you._
  * _That time you beat me at Rainbow Road. You were so—you were beaming, I swear you were shining. I wanted to cup your face in my hands and just kiss you. I almost did._
  * _That time we had a picnic because you wanted to celebrate spring. I wanted to kiss you so much the only thing I could do to calm down was put a flower in your hair. And it’s not like that helped at all because you looked cuter than ever. Then you made me a flower crown and I swear I was sure it was the end of me._
  * _Every time you look at me like I’m not worthless trailer trash, like you see something nobody else can see, like I’m—like I could be good enough. You know I read all the time and I never really understood how all these characters could want to kiss someone so bad they felt like they might explode if they didn’t until—until you looked at me all soft, hair falling in your eyes, until you looked at me like I could mean something and ever since I haven’t been able to go back._



_This list isn’t even complete but I hate myself too much to continue._

_Ever yours,_

_Adam_

_  
_ ‘So,’ Ronan says and clears his throat. He’s sitting alone with his uncle in the living room. ‘What’s it like being married?’

‘Amazing,’ Rick says, grinning at his nephew. ‘Wonderful.’

Ronan smiles up at him. ‘How’d you know he was the one?’

Rick smiles back, and doesn’t say anything for a second. ‘I think I just did,’ he says. ‘Not right away, but at some point I looked at him and I couldn’t imagine my life without him. Or spending it with anyone else. Does that make sense?’

‘Yeah,’ Ronan says slowly. ‘I think it does.’

They just sit together in silence for a while, Ronan looking from his clasped hands to his uncle and back to his hands. ‘How’d you know it was—OK?’

‘Being gay?’ Rick asks and Ronan nods.

‘Well, I had my first boyfriend when I was fourteen,’ Rick says. ‘But I never told ma and dad cause I wasn’t sure how they’d react.’ He chuckles slightly and Ronan tries to smile back but it comes out fake, he can’t pull it off, sitting on needles waiting for Rick to carry on.

‘He kissed me behind a tree and said we had to be a secret. So we were secret for a long time but he was a _really_ good kisser, so. And I wasn’t ready to come out anyway. Eh, I don’t know when I knew it was OK–? I mean, lots of kids in school and the priest too sometimes said it was a sin and it was awful but I think I never really—you know, to love someone is a very beautiful thing. I can’t see how it could be wrong?’

Ronan doesn’t say anything, just sits there and tries to steady his breathing. He squeezes his eyes shut, then quickly blinks open again. ‘How’d you know it was—for _you_ —how’d you know it was OK for _you_?’

‘Hey,’ Rick says softly. ‘What’s going on?’

Ronan looks down and away and bites his lip, swallows hard and blinks. ‘I might, I–’ he stutters out, not looking up at his uncle. He can’t. He can’t even _say_ it.

Rick gets up and sits down beside Ronan, puts his hand on his shoulder and pulls him into a half-hug. ‘It’s OK,’ he says quietly. ‘You’re good, kid. It’s OK.’

Ronan gives up trying not to cry and heaves out a sob. He buries his head in his uncle’s shoulder and silently cries while Rick tells his story and reassures him that everything is OK and they all love him and always will and there’s _nothing_ wrong. It’s OK.

‘Could you maybe–’ Ronan says, averting his uncle’s eyes. ‘Please don’t tell anyone.’ He looks up and locks eyes with Rick. ‘Of course not,’ he says. ‘I’d never.’

‘Thank you,’ Ronan says, voice cracking again. ‘For—all of it. And congratulations again. I’m really happy for you and Jeffrey.’

‘So am I,’ Rick smiles.

_Dear Ronan,_

_You’ll be back in a week. I don’t know how I’ve survived five weeks without you but somehow I have. Maybe it’s because I’ve worked myself so tired I’ve had no energy to do anything – to miss you enough for it to kill me._

_I promise that thing will never happen again. I say that every time but then it ends up happening again because I can’t stop thinking about you, I keep hearing your voice, but I swear this time—it won’t happen again._

_I keep thinking about the road trip you said we’d go on one day and I can’t wait. A map and you behind the wheel and nothing else, nobody, just us. I can’t wait. If you knew that all my good memories are starring you and everything I look forward to is as well, I don’t know what you’d do. I don’t know if you’d tell me you never wanted to see me again. I hope you wouldn’t but I hope more that I’ll never have to find out. I hope I can keep all this secret so I don’t risk losing you._

_I’d say yours forever but even forever isn’t long enough,_

_Adam_

  
They fly home at night so they land around 10 in the morning. The drive home is a couple of hours and add to that the waiting in the airport they’d told Adam they’d probably be back at the Barns around one o’clock.

When he wakes up, his first thought is _today_. His second thought is: _Ronan is coming back today_.

He spends ages figuring out what to wear and he thinks it’s ridiculous and doesn’t get it because it’s just _Ronan_. His hands keep getting sweaty and it feels like his blood is boiling and _why is he nervous_? It’s his _best friend_ and this is what he’s been looking forward to since he left six weeks ago.

He hurries up at the garage so he finishes way faster than usual and Boyd asks what the hell has gotten into him. He doesn’t reply because he doesn’t know what to say so he just shrugs awkwardly and rushes out of his overalls, yells a goodbye over his shoulder and bikes to the Barns in record time.

He gets there just when the car is coming around the corner and he feels his heart speeding up all over again.

He throws his bike on the ground and awkwardly dries his sweaty hands off on his thighs and then he hears the car door slam open and Ronan steps out and—

For a moment, they just stand there, looking at each other. Ronan drops his bag on the ground beside him and just _looks_. Adam has changed so much – he’s tanner, and he grew out his _hair_ —he grew out—he grew out his _hair_ —and the _sun_ and he’s got _freckles_ and his—his _hands_ , his _fingers_ , have they always—has he always—oh _God_ , he wants to run his fingers through his hair and his _freckles_ , he wants to—he wants to die.

Adam is staring at Ronan too. It’s clear that he’s worked out during the summer and his _collarbones_ —have they always—have they always done that _thing_ , and he’s in dark jeans and a _leather jacket_ and Adam wants to jump out an airplane, he wants to buy a plane ticket with the sole purpose of jumping out. He doesn’t have the money, though. He wonders for a second if it’d be weird to steal Ronan’s wallet and just make a run for it but then he realises that it’s in Ronan’s _back pocket_ and—he can’t even finish that thought.

Matthew coughs which startles both Adam and Ronan and they look over at him. He’s grinning and looks over at Declan who’s laughing.

‘Come on inside,’ Aurora says. ‘Let them unite in peace.’ She ushers them all with her into the house but Ronan doesn’t miss the looks both his brothers send him.

He turns his head and looks back at Adam. ‘God, _Adam_ ,’ he says and it sounds like _finally_. It’s like letting out a sigh, all deep and reverent and holy, _sacred_.

He takes two quick steps and pulls Adam into the tightest hug. ‘I missed you so fucking much,’ he says, burying his head in Adam’s shoulder.

Adam is shock-still, doesn’t move for a second, wonders if he’s having an aneurism. Ronan’s _voice_ – it’s gotten so deep, it’s– Then he reacts and reaches up – because Ronan was always taller, but now he’s _taller_ – and wraps his arms around Ronan and twists his fingers in his black curls. ‘I missed you too. So much. Nothing was the same without you.’

Ronan’s grip around Adam tightens because he needs to hold onto something or he’s going to fall, he’s already falling, and it’s the most terrifying feeling; letting go of all control and just _falling_ and falling and falling and he thinks: I’m going to die. He thinks: one day, this boy is going to kill me. He thinks: I don’t even care. Adam’s voice is still all accent and honey, raspy and _Adam_ , and he’s missed this—he’s missed this so much.

Adam doesn’t want to pull away but he forces himself to or he thinks he otherwise might explode. Or get hard. The difference between the two is that the former would be amazing and the latter would ruin everything.

‘I can’t wait to hear _everything_ ,’ he says, smiling brightly at Ronan. He’d try to stop smiling but he knows he wouldn’t’ be able to.

‘I can’t wait to _tell you_ everything,’ Ronan says. ‘Come on inside.’ He squeezes Adam’s shoulder one last time, steps away, and starts walking backwards towards the house. He smiles at him, though all he’s thinking is: _God, I am so completely and utterly fucked._

  
‘I’ve got presents,’ Ronan says, looking excitedly at Adam sitting on his bed. _God_ , when did he get so fucking _hot_? ‘Or not, like, _presents_ – but souvenirs. Weird shit I wanted you to see. You ready?’ He knew Adam would never accept anything he’d spent more than approximately one dollar on so it is, indeed, weird shit he’s brought home.

There’s a large Irish flag, which he drapes over Adam’s shoulders before going to pick up the next one. He hands him a flyer from a museum they’d gone to. ‘Thought of you,’ he says. ‘Since you’re such a massive fucking nerd.’

Adam slowly browses through the flyer and points out things he would’ve loved to see, asking if it wasn’t _mind-blowing_.

‘See,’ Ronan says. ‘Fucking nerd.’

He picks up the next thing. ‘I stole some books from my grandma,’ he says. ‘Some old Agatha Christie and some other jazz you’ll probably like since you’re such a loser.’

‘If these are loser books, I should read them aloud for you.’

‘I mean,’ Ronan says. ‘I wouldn’t object, you know?’

‘ _God_ ,’ Adam says, punching his shoulder. ‘You’re a fucking _loser_.’

‘So you keep saying,’ Ronan says. ‘I found this film too, which looks really strange so I figured we could kill some time watching it.’

‘What’s it called?’ Adam asks, perking up.

‘Eh,’ Ronan says. ‘It’s in Irish but it means, like, into the depths or something like that.’

‘All right,’ Adam says, smiling up at him. He can’t get over how _hot_ Ronan’s gotten – and his _voice_ , it’s all deep and— _God_ , Adam is so completely and utterly _fucked_.

Ronan gets out his laptop, puts the film in, and turns it on. He sits down beside Adam on the bed and places the laptop on his thighs so they can both see.

The intro is—weird, is probably the right way. It looks like something made in the 80s and whoever created it had fun with odd fonts and colours. It’s a train wreck but it looks interesting too.

He hits play and settles back in the bed, lets the film start.

Ten minutes in, Adam looks over at him, ‘Wow, do you really think Elliot cheated on Chad with that hunter?’ he asks.

‘I think so,’ Ronan says, looking over at him. ‘I mean, I think this dialogue tipped him off.’

They’re silent again for a while, looking at the screen as the story moves on and suddenly the focus changes and Elliot is half-naked on a bed and the hunter is there.

‘Yeah,’ Ronan says. ‘I think Elliot is cheating on Chad.’

The scene quickly develops and both parties shred clothing in the speed of light. After four minutes Adam realises this qualifies as porn and he swallows hard. _Fuck_.

Ronan doesn’t want to look at the screen but he also doesn’t want to look away because that would mean looking at Adam and he doesn’t think he can do that right now.

They’re both staring at the screen in disbelief, wide eyes. It’s so _loud_. Ronan is scared Matthew will hear, or even worse—God, what if Declan _hears_? What are they _doing_ , how did this turn into _this_?

Too many close-ups of body parts touching, images Ronan will never be able to get out of his head, and this is probably the most awkward moment in his life.

He slams the laptop closed and jumps up. ‘That was, um,’ he says, looking for the right – _any_ – words, and looking at the ground. ‘I did _not_ know it was going to end like this.’

‘That was, eh,’ Adam says, also not looking a Ronan. ‘ _Something_ ,’ he settles on, laughing awkwardly.

Ronan is too, but then he falls over and starts laughing for _real_ ; clasping his hands at his sides and gasping for breath. ‘That,’ he gasps, ‘that was in my _grandma’s_ stash.’

‘Oh God,’ Adam says, unable to hold in the laughter as well. ‘Oh _God_.’

The door slams open and Declan is standing in the frame of it. ‘What the fuck was that?’ he says.

Ronan is still lying on the floor and he looks up at his big brother and, fucking excellent, here we go.

Declan keeps looking from Adam to Ronan to Adam again. He doesn’t say anything for a second, just keeps turning his head, wondering what the hell he just heard, what the hell they’re even up to. ‘For real little brother,’ he says. ‘I can’t believe you keep giving me so much shit for telling the truth.’

 

* * *

 

In a fit of hysteria, Ronan throws his phone at the wall. The back falls off and he can’t turn it on again.

He makes it into the kitchen with it in his hands and lays it down on the table, looking at his mother. ‘Mom,’ he says. ‘My phone broke.’

‘So I can see,’ Aurora says, looking at the broken cell phone. It didn’t even last a year – Ronan had gotten it for his thirteenth birthday. ‘What’d you do?’

‘Eh,’ Ronan says, looking from his hands to Adam to the phone. ‘Might’ve thrown it at the wall but I _promise_ I didn’t mean to and it wasn’t like I–’

‘You threw it at the wall,’ Aurora says slowly, as if to make sure this isn’t a misunderstanding.

‘Yes,’ Ronan says, nodding.

It ends with Ronan getting a new phone and Adam somehow, almost by magic, fixing the old one so now they both have a phone and they can _text_ each other – something that comes in handy the first day of high school since once again they’re heading different places.

 

Ronan, [9:35]

there’s this guy in my class who has glitter on his hair and i thought he didn’t know so i mentioned it and he asked if i wanted some in mine. i can’t believe this

 

Adam, [9:36]

wtf is it w/ rich ppl

 

Ronan, [9:40]

who fuckin knows

 

Ronan, [12:05]

so guess who i’m hanging out with

 

Adam, [12:07]

r u implying ur currently covered in glitter

 

Ronan, [12:07]

shut the fuck up

 

Ronan, [12:10]

hey ronan’s friend !!!!!! i’m noah & ronan said u might b interested in glitter so hmu anytime !!!!!! i hope ur having a good day & get 2 pet a dog !!!!

 

Adam stares at his phone in disbelief for three whole minutes, letting the overenthusiastic message sink in. He’s never talked with anyone so— _spirited._ Ronan has known him for all of three hours and he’s already stolen his phone and sent a text wishing Adam a good day and promising to be his official glitter pusher.

 

Adam, [12:16]

i hope u have a good day too noah. u should pour glitter on ronan, he’ll love that.

 

Ronan, [12:20]

enjoy ur last seconds alive parrish i’m gonna fuck u up

 

Adam, [12:20]

… are u now implying u are covered in glitter?

 

Ronan, [12:21]

czerny just let out the loudest laugh i’m gonna fuck him up too

 

Adam, [12:21]

BEHAVE, LYNCH

 

Ronan, [12:22]

i. will. fuck. you. up.

 

Adam doesn’t even hear what the guy says but he hears the tiny girl with uneven hair and odd hair clips yelling “HELL NO” and standing up before she starts rattling off a speech documenting in explicit detail why what he said was _shitty_ and _wrong_ and how she has all day if he wants to start a fight.

The guy and Adam both stare at her in awe, not really grasping what just happened. What the _hell_ , she’s _tiny_.

She narrows her eyes and stares everyone down, then dumps down on her chair again.

 

Adam, [13:45]

this girl just completely obliterated some fuckboy

 

‘That was savage,’ Adam says quietly and the girl turns around in her chair, looking Adam up and down.

‘Thanks,’ she says cheerily. ‘I aim to be. I’m Blue.’ She sticks out her hand and Adam takes it.

‘Adam,’ he says, shaking her hand. ‘You aim to be savage?’

‘Somebody’s gotta teach all these fuckers a lesson.’

 

Adam, [14:30]

her name is blue & she’s p cool

 

Adam, [14:30]

she’s kind of like u. has no fucks to give & always down 2 fight.

 

Ronan, [14:32]

i’m taking that as a compliment

  
‘So,’ Adam says, smiling up at Ronan. He slowly reaches his hand out to softly run it through his hair, which is filled with glitter. ‘How was your first day at school?’

‘It was _school_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘Fucking hate it. Czerny’s pretty cool, though.’

‘I can’t believe he threw glitter all over you,’ Adam says. ‘And you didn’t kill him.’

Ronan grins at him. ‘Shocking, right?’ he says. ‘I don’t think I could kill him, though. It’d be like—killing a golden retriever or something.’

‘You’d rather kill a human than a dog?’ Adam asks, pulling his hand back.

‘You _wouldn’t_?’ Ronan shoots back looking mildly terrified and very shocked.

‘I would,’ Adam says. ‘But I guess I’m not much for murder at all.’

‘When I was your age…’ Ronan begins but Adam interrupts him. ‘You’re younger than me, loser.’

‘Shut the fuck up,’ Ronan says. ‘How was your day anyway? Tell me about that feisty girl version of me. Blue?’

‘Yeah,’ Adam says, grinning at the other boy. ‘Blue Sargent. She’s pretty cool; maybe this year will be all right after all.’

 

* * *

 

Ronan, [8:01]

there’s this fucking nerd in my history class who walked straight to the desk when class started and started talking abt welsh shit w the teacher smh i’m gonna shove him in the locker later

 

Ronan, [8:02]

HE DOESN’T EVEN GO HERE

 

‘Oh God, Ronan,’ Noah whispers, stabbing Ronan’s arm with his pencil. ‘He’s hot. He’s _hot_.’

‘Who?’ Ronan says, looking around. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Look up from lover boy for one sec fucko,’ he says, rolling his eyes. ‘I’m not going to point because pointing is impolite but the _guy_ at the teacher’s _desk_. He’s really cute. We have to talk to him.’

‘God, would you chill,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes at Noah. He leans back in his chair and eyes the stranger up and down.

‘I want to break his glasses with my pelvis,’ Noah says. ‘Or hold his hand. Or bake him cupcakes. Ronan,’ he adds, looking over at his friend who’s looking at him half horrified, half amazed. ‘Can I want all three? We need to talk to him.’

‘Noah,’ Ronan whispers back, rolling his eyes once more. ‘You don’t even know his fucking name. Chill.’

‘Which part?’ Noah says, scrunching his eyebrows, which makes him look, Ronan’s got to admit, really fucking cute. If Noah offers that guy cupcakes, handholding, _and_ blowjobs he’d be a fool to turn him down. ‘The cupcakes, right? Is that too much? Do you think he likes glitter?’

Ronan waves him off. ‘Why don’t we go find out?’

‘Oh,’ Noah says. ‘You mean talk to him? Yeah.’

Then, the guy sits down at a table pointed out to him by the teacher and the teacher starts talking. Ronan tries to concentrate for all of four seconds before he zones out and ignores every word he says.

  
When class ends, Noah shoves all his books into his yellow, pin-filled backpack faster than ever before, grabs Ronan by the wrist, and drags him with him over to the new guy.

‘Hi,’ he says, grinning at him. The guy looks up and narrows his eyes at Noah before he smiles. ‘Hello,’ he says. ‘I’m Gansey.’ He reaches out his hand.

‘I’m Noah,’ Noah says, taking Gansey’s hand in his and shaking. He’s smiling up at him. ‘You’re new here? Do you want me to show you around? I can do that. This is Ronan by the way. What’s your next class?’

‘English,’ Gansey says and his voice sounds like money. ‘What’s yours?’

‘Eh,’ Noah says, tapping his fingers. ‘I think I’ve got bio?’

Ronan leans in close and whispers in Noah’s ear, ‘should I leave?’

‘No,’ Noah says, batting him away. ‘Yes. Shut up. Go text Adam or something.’

Ronan salutes, grins wickedly at his friend, then looks at Gansey and says ‘nice meeting you’ before turning around and walking towards his next class.

‘Who’s Adam?’ Gansey asks curiously, pushing up his glasses. ‘Oh, sorry, I don’t mean to pry. You don’t have to answer that.’

‘It’s his not-boyfriend,’ Noah elaborates, ‘whom he _never_ shuts up about, so. Anyway, do you know where you’re supposed to go?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ Gansey says, looking over his right shoulder before turning around again and sending Noah a hopeless and confused look.

‘Worry not,’ he says. ‘I’ll show you. Noah Czerny’s here to save the day.’

‘So Noah,’ Gansey smiles, all ease and confidence. ‘What do you know about Welsh kings?’

 

* * *

 

Blue works at Nino’s and some days when Ronan has tennis and Adam is free, he hangs out with her there. He brings his homework and she sneaks him milkshakes and pops in to complain whenever there’s a quiet moment.

It’s nice—easy.

One day, he nervously asks her if she wants to go to the movies with him. She’s been talking about this foreign indie film for a couple of weeks so he figured they could go together.

She says yes, excitedly grinning at him. ‘I’d love to,’ she smiles and Adam smiles up at her and finishes his milkshake. (Another thing his family had never introduced him to.)

At the cinema, Blue takes his hand and when he looks over at her with wide eyes she grins at him and turns her attention back to the screen.

He likes her.

Except, he’s not completely sure – or, well, he _does_. He likes Blue. She’s nice and she’s funny and she’s feisty and she reminds him a lot of Ronan, and she’s his friend so he _does_ like her – just maybe not _likes_ likes her. Or maybe he does? He’s not really sure how it’s supposed to feel like. He knows he likes Ronan but he’s trying to get over that and maybe dating Blue will help. He’s not sure—he knows he _does_ like her but holding her hand doesn’t feel like he remembers holding Ronan’s felt like and he doesn’t—doesn’t daydream about it in the same way.

But it’s not a _bad_ feeling. And Blue is _nice._ And maybe he can grow to like her in the same way he likes Ronan, maybe—

He tells Ronan, one day. They’re sitting at the kitchen table with textbooks sprawled out in front of them.

‘I–’ he says, getting Ronan’s attention. He figures Ronan was probably looking for _any_ excuse to look away from his homework. ‘I think I like someone,’ he says and he knows he’s imagining that look on Ronan’s face.

‘Nice,’ Ronan says, smiling at him. ‘Who is it?’

‘You remember Blue?’ he says, looking down at his hands while he steadies his breathing. What if he just said _you, I like you_? He can’t believe he just actually _thought_ that – here’s the answer: Ronan will look at him like he’s ridiculous, he will tell him he’s out of his mind – or maybe, best case scenario he’ll say “who doesn’t” – and then everything will be awkward and they have to stop being friends.

Ronan nods, looks down at his math for a second and doodles something in the margin, holding the pencil so tight it almost breaks. He looks up again. ‘Does she like you too?’

‘I don’t know,’ Adam says, running his fingers through his hair. ‘I think, maybe? I mean, I don’t think she hates me. We’ve gone out a couple of times and she’s—you know, nice.’

Ronan swallows hard and smiles up at his friend. ‘I hope it works out,’ he says. ‘She sounds so cool.’

  
Adam introduces them one day. He asks Ronan to come over at Nino’s after school and he does.

Adam is incredibly nervous because Ronan’s opinion means everything.

It’s kind of awkward in the beginning because they don’t know what to say or how to interact with each other. Furthermore, Ronan is trying to control how he’s torn between being jealous and wanting Blue to _leave_ and wanting the best for Adam. ‘So,’ he says. ‘Adam told me about this guy at school whom you completely _obliterated_.’

Blue looks from Ronan to Adam to Ronan again, then breaks into a smile. ‘Yeah,’ she says. ‘Somebody’s got to fuck them up, you know?’

‘I know,’ Ronan says. ‘If you ever want to learn how to fight, hit me up.’

‘ _Nice_ ,’ Blue says. ‘My mom taught me more about, like, reading tarot cards than throwing punches so I might hold you up on that.’

‘God,’ Adam says, shaking his head slowly and grinning at his friend. ‘You make it two minutes before talking about _fighting_. Probably a new record.’

‘Shut up,’ Ronan says. ‘I’ll kick your ass.’

Adam raises an eyebrow at him before turning his attention back to his ice cream and scooping up a spoonful. ‘Remember when we went for ice cream with your cousin?’ he asks. ‘And he made fun of you because you hadn’t kissed anyone.’

‘Shut _up_ ,’ Ronan says, feeling his cheeks turn red. ‘I was fucking _ten_.’

‘You hadn’t kissed anyone when you were ten?’ Blue asks, looking suspiciously at Ronan.

‘No,’ he says. ‘What the fuck, it’s not like Adam had either.’ He looks over at him and they both miss the look Blue sends their way, like something falling into place.

‘Whatever loser,’ he says.

They’re there for a long time. It’s nice, it’s easy-going and relaxed; a lot of laughing, a lot of anecdotes and inside jokes.

Blue listens intently to them telling stories about the things they’ve done, swiftly picking up where the other leaves without missing a beat, finishing each other’s sentences; the way they look at each other, _beaming_. The difference between the way they look at _her_ and the way they look at each other – and not even because they look at her _mean_ , look at her _hostile_ —because they don’t; they look at her with interest and they listen to what she has to say and they laugh with her, but the looks they send each other are _different_.

It’s like she’s third wheeling only it isn’t that bad – she likes them, they’re funny and kind and easy to be around. They’re good.

  
Ronan can’t fall asleep, he keeps thinking about Adam holding Blue’s hand. He knows that’s bad and wrong and jealousy is an even bigger sin than him liking Adam in the first place and he _tries_ to stop—he does, he swears, _God_ , he curses at himself in every language he knows, telling himself to think about something else and to just go to sleep and to stop being so _fucking awful_.

Adam’s soft hands, now probably roughened and calloused by the time he’s spent working in the garage, and Ronan hasn’t touched them in over a _year_ and now this _girl_ is holding them and Adam is probably kissing _her_ hands and maybe even—are they kissing? Have Adam and Blue kissed? Ronan tells himself to _not_ go there but he’s nothing if not masochistic so he imagines in explicit detail Adam kissing Blue and Blue putting her fingers in Adam’s hair and whispering his name and leaving a hickey on his neck and _God_ this hurts more than—the thought of all this, which might not even have _happened_ , hurts more than anything has ever hurt before, but that’s OK, that’s _good_ , really, because liking Adam is _bad_ and Ronan is _bad_ for doing it and he needs to _stop_ so he deserves to _hurt_ until he finally _stops_.

  
Adam is the one to initiate the kiss. ‘Can I kiss you?’ he asks and since Blue nods and smiles at him, he leans in slowly and puts his mouth on hers.

It’s short and close-mouthed. Adam breathes out slowly when he pulls away. It was—well, it wasn’t bad but it wasn’t like in the books. It wasn’t _magic_.

‘Is this,’ Blue says, smiling nervously up at Adam. ‘Is this working for you?’

‘Oh _God_ am I glad you said that,’ Adam says and laughs nervously. ‘I was worried.’

Blue grins up at him and pats his shoulder. ‘Besides,’ she says. ‘I know you have your best intentions, but you can’t get over him just by going out with other people.’

‘What–’ Adam stutters out. ‘What do you mean? Who? What?’

Blue smiles at him and pushes him lightly by the shoulder. ‘Honestly do you think I’m blind, I’m a bit offended here,’ she says but she’s laughing so Adam knows she’s not mad. ‘I had known you for a minute when he came up in conversation and you should _listen_ to the way you talk about him, you’re all–’ she waves her hand in front of her in a vague _you know_ gesture. ‘It took me three seconds of seeing you together to know how it is.’

Adam is blushing and looking away, trying to avoid this, trying to appear like Blue is _mistaken_.

‘Seriously,’ she says. ‘I like you a lot. And _please_ let’s stay friends. Go get your boy.’ She winks at him and Adam looks back at her _mortified_.

  
‘So Blue and I broke up,’ Adam says and Ronan looks carefully at him. ‘You all right?’ he says.

‘Yeah,’ Adam says quickly, brushing it off. ‘It’s all right. I’m fine.’

‘If she hurt you, I’ll fuck her up,’ Ronan replies without missing a beat. His expression doesn’t even change for a second.

‘Shut up,’ Adam says, rolling his eyes. ‘She’s good. We’re good. It was a mutual agreement – it wasn’t working, you know? So.’

‘Oh,’ Ronan says, nodding slowly. ‘All right. I’m sad to hear that.’

‘Don’t be,’ Adam says. ‘For real. We’re going to stay friends; it’s cool. Might still get discount on milkshakes at Nino’s.’

Ronan grins up at him. ‘OK, but have you ever had _homemade_ milkshakes?’ he asks. ‘Because otherwise I’m about to change your _life_.’

‘I haven’t,’ Adam says. ‘No.’

‘Let’s go, loser,’ Ronan says, grabbing Adam’s wrist and dragging him up from where he’s sitting and with him into the kitchen. ‘Prepare to be blown _away_.’

 

* * *

 

Ronan is half asleep with his head on Adam’s shoulder and Adam is reading aloud from a book. Matthew sneaks up behind them and holds a mistletoe above their heads. ‘You have to kiss,’ he says, giggling and Ronan quickly startles awake, looking horrified at his little brother.

‘It’s the _rules_!’ he says, pointing at the mistletoe with his free hand.

‘Oh no,’ Ronan says, swallowing hard and staring Matthew down. ‘This is cheating.’

‘Hmm,’ Matthew says, looking to be considering it but obviously not _actually_ rethinking. ‘I don’t think so. You have to kiss.’

Adam and Ronan don’t look at each other. They’re both thinking similar things: how can I pull this off _without_ blowing everything?

Adam, torn between elation and shame, worry – thinking _wow_ , really wanting to kiss Ronan, but scared he’ll fuck everything up and Ronan will _realise_ and this is possibly the best and worst moment of his life so far.

Ronan, wanting to choke out his brother because that’s _rude_ and he _knows_ Ronan maybe-likes Adam.

Before he can think and rethink it too much, Adam leans over and kisses Ronan’s cheek, then quickly pulls back. ‘There,’ he says, trying to control his voice. He knows he’s blushing but maybe if he ignores it nobody else will notice. Ronan’s blushing too and he averts Adam’s eyes at all cost.

Matthew is grinning at them, then lowers his hand. ‘See,’ he says, a giggle escaping him. ‘Wasn’t that hard, was it?’

‘Fuck you,’ Ronan says, still refusing to look up from his lap.

‘Did he have soft lips?’ Matthew grins, dumping down beside Ronan and letting his head rest on his shoulder. ‘He looks like he does.’

‘I’m not speaking to you,’ Ronan says coldly.

Adam sinks deeper into the ocean of self-hatred he’s already drowning in.

 

* * *

 

They're sitting in the BMW, which makes it a thousand times better because it’s the _BMW_. It’s parked under that huge tree so no one sees them, it’s just them. Adam and Ronan. They're kissing and they have been for an hour. Ronan has his fingers tangled in Adam’s hair and Adam pulls away and starts sucking a hickey into Ronan’s neck. Ronan moans softly and Adam grins up at him. ‘I want to blow you,’ he says, biting his lip, his fingers softly tracing patterns on Ronan’s skin.

Ronan chokes on the air. ‘Are you—all right, OK, sure, I mean–’

Adam is grinning at him. He doesn’t look shy; he looks— _hot_. Ronan swallows hard, then pushes the seat back.

Adam grins up at him again, wickedly and all-consuming and Ronan’s skin is on _fire._ Adam starts leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down Ronan’s jaw, his neck, his collarbone and Ronan doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this before, doesn’t think he’ll ever feel like this again, doesn’t—

Then, Ronan wakes up.


	8. Fifteen years old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this chapter is also kinda longer + deals w/ some heavy stuff so tws for: death, alcohol, hospitalisation, & v v depressive thoughts.
> 
> (oh also some like not-so-vague-still-kinda-vague masturbation ???)

Ronan is suddenly constantly dreaming, waking up breathless, Adam’s name falling from his lips. Waking up wanting to _die_ , because it’s _gross_. He hates himself.

Half of the time he dreams of Adam, and things that makes him want to never sleep again, and the rest of the time he dreams about things that could kill him in the most painful of ways. He figures maybe that’s only appropriate, maybe it’s punishment for the other dreams.

Maybe watching himself be torn to pieces by some monster with large wings and too many teeth to count is penance for the dreams about Adam kissing him softly, Adam looking at him with fire in his eyes, Adam biting his lip like he wants to take him _apart_.

 

* * *

 

‘Do you think Gansey is straight?’ Noah says and he sounds almost despairing.

Ronan pauses the film they’re watching and looks over at his friend. ‘I dunno,’ he says. ‘I mean, if he isn’t, his mom would have a fucking heart attack.’

‘If he’s straight, _I_ will have a heart attack,’ Noah says.

‘Chill,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes. ‘He’s probably into anyone who’s cool with listening to him talk endlessly about that weird mythological shit he’s obsessed with…’

‘Welsh kings,’ Noah says. ‘And it’s actually interesting, he’s–’

‘God, you are so fucking gone,’ Ronan laughs harshly, rolling his eyes as if he can’t believe it.

‘Shut up,’ Noah says, blushing and looking down. ‘He’s _cute_.’

‘He’s all right, I guess,’ Ronan says. ‘I mean, if you get off to _polo shirts_.’

‘Remind me why we’re friends,’ Noah says.

‘And _boat shoes_ ,’ Ronan continues. ‘Czerny, _seriously_.’

‘Shut _up_ , Lynch,’ he says. ‘He’s _cute_. You need to find out if he’s straight. Please. We’re friends. Do me a solid.’

‘God,’ Ronan says. ‘How do you want me to find out? I could go up and be all, like, “hey G Money, would you be interested in having your glasses broken by Noah’s pelvis?”’

Noah looks at him horrified, and then lets out the loudest high-pitched laugh Ronan has ever heard and punches his shoulder. ‘I will kill you,’ he says then, voice suddenly completely serious again. ‘Can’t you just, like, drop it in normal convo, I don’t know? I’ll do something for you. I can teach you to skate. Or bake you muffins. I can ask Adam out for you?’ he suggests the last part in the perfect kindergartener-voice and winks at Ronan.

‘If you so much as _insinuate_ to Adam that I might be, you know, _that_ , I will fuck you up _and_ tell Gansey everything you’ve ever said about him.’

‘Oh no,’ Noah says. ‘Also the–?’

‘Yes,’ Ronan says. ‘Also that. Fuck, you _said_ that.’ His voice breaks into a laugh and he looks over at Noah who’s blushing again. ‘I can’t believe you _said_ that.’

‘ _I_ can’t believe I said that,’ Noah says and he looks more shocked than Ronan. ‘For real though,’ he picks up. ‘ _Please_ find out if I have a chance.’

‘Fine,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes. ‘I’ll find out if he wants to make out with you.’

‘ _No_ ,’ Noah gasps horrified. ‘Don’t mention _me_. Just—find out if he’s straight. Be subtle for like _once_ in your life, Lynch.’

‘One,’ Ronan says. ‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m the subtlest person I know. Two, why don’t you just ask him yourself?’

‘One,’ Noah says. ‘I’m not even going to acknowledge or answer that because—no. Where did you get the idea you’re _subtle?_ Two—you know what, I’m not going to answer that either. Put RENT back on.’

‘You’re so–’ Ronan says while rolling his eyes, but he clicks play on his laptop.

While they watch the rest of the musical, Ronan contemplates for a second how— _thankful_ he is for Noah and how easy it is to be around him. One of the first things he told Ronan was that he wasn’t straight so it’s—he’s not sure exactly why, but it makes thing easier. Ronan still isn’t completely content and safe in his own sexuality but he’s working on it and being with Noah – being able to be open about it with someone – is helping immensely.

  
‘Hey Gansey,’ Ronan says, dropping down in the chair next to him. It’s study hall, and they’re not really supposed to be talking, but Ronan never really cared much about rules. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Sure,’ Gansey says, looking up from the journal he’s always carrying around. It’s filled with info and trivia about Welsh mythology and kings and something geography related as well—Ronan doesn’t really know exactly what it’s all about.

They’re friends though. Noah and Gansey are his friends – really, they’re the only people at Aglionby he can tolerate, but he doesn’t care much because he neither wants nor needs anyone else anyway. He’s got Adam, these two, and his family – whom he’d both die and kill for, so.

For Ronan, relationships are all-consuming. Really, _everything_ is all-consuming: he doesn’t do _grey_ or in-between or _almost_. He is one or the other. He does everything full force and gives _everything_.

So he doesn’t have the energy for more people, really. So he’s content, and glad, and everything is good. He’s got everything he could possibly want.

‘Have you ever questioned your sexuality,’ he asks. He’s spend a long time trying to come up with a way he could supply Noah with an answer without somehow incriminating Noah for being behind it.

Gansey’s eyebrows shoot up and he looks very surprised – for all of one second – and then he’s back to the suave façade and looking in-control. ‘I suppose so,’ he says in a quiet voice, looking over his shoulder. ‘Why?’

‘Because I have,’ Ronan says, clearing his throat. In the end, he’d figured that using himself as a starting point would be the best way to secure that nobody figured out how this was really about Czerny.

‘Is this really a conversation you want to have _here_?’ Gansey asks, looking almost more surprised by that than the original question.

‘Well, not really,’ Ronan says, thinking he’d actually rather not have this conversation at _all_. ‘But we’re kind of stuck here so I figured we might as well spend our time on something useful, so. You said you supposed you had?’

Gansey looks at him in bewilderment for almost a full minute, then pushes his chair closer and lowers his voice so it’s only for them. ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘You too?’

‘Yeah,’ Ronan says, looking the other way. ‘So, like, what are your thoughts?’

‘I really do think this is an odd place to be talking about this,’ Gansey stalls. ‘But I mean—well, I don’t know. It’s not something I’ve ever really talked about.’

‘Yeah, me neither,’ Ronan admits quietly.

‘Oh, not even with Adam?’

‘What the fuck,’ Ronan says. ‘Especially not with Adam. Wait. Stop. No. We were talking about you.’

Gansey grins at him and shakes his head slowly before saying something. ‘All right,’ he says. ‘Well–’ He pauses and visibly steadies his breathing. ‘Well, I guess it’s safe to say I’m not straight.’

Ding, ding, ding we have a winner, Ronan thinks. He’ll pass this information on to Noah and to be completely honest he’s not sure whether that will make things better or worse.

‘Me neither,’ Ronan says and some weird streak of wild bravery hits him right there. ‘So not straight. So, _so_ not straight.’

Gansey smiles and shakes his head again, looking down. ‘Good to know,’ he says.

‘No worries, I’m not into you though,’ he says, and maybe that’s presumptuous and arrogant, but he might as well say it– to make sure Gansey doesn’t get ideas that’ll make this whole friendship _awkward_. ‘I mean, I like you a lot, but I don’t want to kiss you.’ Gansey is grinning at him and Ronan starts blushing and stuttering and swearing, ‘Wait, was that weird? Or insulting? I didn’t mean it to be insulting. I didn’t, I’m–’

‘Chill, Ronan,’ Gansey says. ‘I don’t want to kiss you either. Even though whoever gets to would be really lucky.’

‘That was—a surprisingly strange comment coming from you,’ he says. ‘I can’t believe I was wondering whether you were straight.’ He laughs, for real this time, with _sound_ , and he receives a sharp look from the teacher.

‘Don’t worry,’ Gansey says quietly. ‘Anyway, I am not straight, no. Feels weird saying that, actually. Nice though. Thank you.’

‘Well, it would’ve been weird if you were called, like, Stranseight. So thank God for that.’

Ronan has never heard Gansey laugh that much or that loud. ‘That’s the worst joke I’ve ever heard,’ he gasps out when he catches his breath. ‘And I’ve known you for _half a year._ ’

‘Are you implying I make bad jokes?’ Ronan says, looking mock offended. ‘You sound like Adam now.’

Gansey raises an eyebrow and _winks_ at Ronan, who splutters and looks down. ‘Shut the fuck up,’ he says.

‘I didn’t say anything,’ Gansey says innocently. ‘When are you going to introduce us?’

‘I guess you all could come over this weekend,’ Ronan muses. ‘If you want, I guess. Czerny too. I don’t know? Would that be weird?’

‘Ronan,’ Gansey says. ‘We just spent study hall discussing sexuality. I think watching a movie on a Saturday night is less weird.’

‘Well, yeah,’ Ronan says. ‘But you also don’t think it’s fucking weird to carry around a journal about Welsh kings, so.’

‘Actually,’ Gansey replies, immediately switching to his historian-voice. ‘I just read an article this morning, and it’s very _interesting_ –’

 

Ronan, [16:15]

mission accomplished u owe me 5 bucks

 

Noah, [16:16]

i owe u nothing except a punch 2 the throat

 

Ronan, [16:16]

wow

 

Ronan, [16:17]

that’s brutal, czerny

 

Noah, [16:18]

i’m brutal, lynch

 

Noah, [16:20]

so what’s the answer fuckhead is he str8 do i have a chance oh my god please

 

Ronan, [16:21]

he’s not str8 & frankly i’m disgusted u assumed so

 

Noah, [16:22]

I DIDN’T ASSUME SO

 

Noah, [16:23]

I JUST DIDN’T KNOW !!!!!!!!

 

Noah, [16:23]

ok but srsly omg he’s not str8 ???? i’m gonna cry i’m #blessed forever

 

Ronan, [16:24]

i fucking hate you

 

Noah, [16:25]

that sounds like ur problem and not mine

 

Noah, [16:26]

i do love u tho oh my god !!!! thank u thank u i owe u my life omg now i just need 2 figure out how 2 make him like me

 

Ronan, [16:27]

everyone likes u noah ur un-unlikeable

 

Noah, [16:28]

that’s gay also i don’t think that’s a word but idk

 

Ronan, [16:29]

surprise huge shocker gasp i am literally gay

 

Noah, [16:30]

whaaaaaaaaaaaatttttttttt u???? gay ???????

 

Ronan, [16:31]

god i rly hate u

 

Noah, [16:32]

still doesn’t sound like my problem?

 

Ronan, [16:33]

whatfuckinever

 

Ronan, [16:34]

bc i am literally the best friend & person alive i am hereby inviting u over 2 my place this saturday 2 watch a movie. polo shirts will be here too

 

Noah, [16:35]

I TAKE EVERYTHING BACK YOU ARE A GOD & A SAVIOUR & I WOULD MARRY YOU & HAVE UR KIDS IF IT WASN’T BC I’M INTO GANSEY

 

Ronan, [16:36]

which is still the weirdest thing in the world but tbh i’ve given up at this point…

 

Noah, [16:37]

ok anyway i’m gonna figure out what 2 WEAR shit u have put me in a horrible position now … what should i wear? what screams “i, too, am not str8 and i would like u 2 pull my hair” most??

 

Ronan, [16:38]

i thought i was gay but by god …

 

Ronan, [16:39]

crop tops r cool for maximum gay power + u look so good in them, so

 

Noah, [16:40]

i’d think u were flirting w/ me if it wasn’t bc i knew u were totally fuckin in love w/ someone else (adam)

 

Ronan, [16:41]

fuck u

 

Ronan, [16:42]

i hope u stab urself in the eye w/ ur glitter eyeliner

 

Ronan, [16:43]

here i am, being the best friend in the world, not only finding out whether ur crush is straight but also securing u an opportunity to WATCH A MOVIE W/ HIM and on top of all of that, i’m giving u fashion advice and YOU

 

Noah, [16:44]

ur the most dramatic person i know and my name is noah czerny

 

Ronan, [16:45]

go away

 

Noah, [16:46]

tbh wouldn’t it be so awks for u & adam if me & gansey ended up making out haha i think it would ;)

 

Ronan, [16:47]

haha wouldn’t it be so awks for u & boat shoes if adam and i ended up making out haha i think it would

 

Noah, [16:48]

yea so do i but i know ur too much of a coward for that 2 ever happen so i’m not gonna worry

 

Ronan, [16:49]

one day i’m throwing u out a window

 

Noah, [16:50]

i’d like 2 see u try??????

 

Noah, [16:51]

4 real tho … crop top ??? i have that “let’s get one thing straight i’m not” shirt but is that too much? that looks like i’m trying right??

 

Ronan, [16:51]

not to be that guy but noah u ARE trying

 

Noah, [16:52]

i know i am fuckhead the point is gansey isn’t supposed 2 figure that out ???

 

Ronan, [16:52]

that’s gay

 

Noah, [16:53]

so am i fuck u i’m gonna leave for real now and cry bc idk what 2 wear

 

Ronan, [16:53]

i hope u choke on ur tears

  
‘Hey,’ Ronan says into his phone. God, he hates phone calls. Really, the only person he can tolerate being on the phone with is Adam. And sometimes Noah, but Noah always uses FaceTime because he needs to be _seen_ all the time.

‘Hi,’ Adam says, breathing heavily which Ronan knows is because he’s at work. If there’s one thing he hates more than phone calls it’s possibly Adam’s job at the garage albeit for very different reasons – it involves cars, gasoline, and Adam, which is the perfect recipe for Ronan’s death.

‘What’s up? Adam asks and Ronan snaps out of it.

‘Do you want to come over this weekend?’ Ronan says. ‘Gansey and Noah will be there too and we could, I don’t know, watch movies or something. Throw popcorn at Noah and see if he can catch them with his mouth.’

‘Do you always treat Noah like a dog?’ Adam asks and Ronan can hear the smile in his voice.

‘I mean, not _always_ ,’ he says. ‘Though imagine how the teachers would react if I told them he’d eaten my homework and that’s why I couldn’t hand it in.’

Adam laughs breathlessly. ‘You could cover them with glitter glue,’ he says. ‘And he probably would actually do it.’

Ronan laughs into his phone, imagining Noah eating glitter. ‘You know,’ he says. ‘You’re probably right.’

‘I know,’ Adam says. ‘When am I not?’

‘Good question,’ Ronan says. ‘Anyway, do you want to come, or–?’

‘Yeah,’ Adam says. ‘Sounds fun. I’m free Saturday evening.’

‘Nice,’ Ronan says and figures he should probably hang up but he doesn’t really want to. ‘I can’t wait for you to meet Czerny,’ he says instead, grinning.

‘Well, he’s already my official glitter pusher, so.’

Ronan laughs at him. ‘Well, I’ll tell him to bring the glitter,’ he says. ‘Not that I think that’ll be necessary.’

‘Good,’ Adam says, smiling into his phone. He doesn’t want to end the call but he needs to get back to work. ‘We’ll talk later,’ he says.

‘We’ll talk later,’ Ronan says and he almost slips up and says _I love you_. ‘Get back to work, loser.’

‘I will,’ Adam says fondly. ‘See you.’

‘See you,’ Ronan says, looking at his phone for a couple of seconds after he hears the _beep_ of Adam hanging up.

  
They all come over Saturday and Ronan doesn’t miss the look Adam sends Gansey—all awe-inspired, reverential. He doesn’t cower, but he might as well be – it’s like he visibly tries to make himself appear _smaller_ , like he doesn’t want to take up too much space around him, like he thinks he doesn’t _deserve_ to take up space around him. Ronan’s heart breaks, because Adam is the most wonderful person he knows – the most _talented_ – and that someone like him thinks he doesn’t deserve a place here, around someone like Gansey is—too much. He hates it. He wishes he could do something – _anything_.

‘Hi Adam,’ Noah purrs excitedly, pulling him into a hug instead of shaking his hand. ‘I’m Noah and I’m sure Ronan has told you so much about me already. He’s told me so much about you anyway, he essentially am not capable of shutting the fuck up about you? Amazing. I brought my glitter, if you’re interested–’

‘Czerny,’ Ronan says sharply. ‘For someone accusing others of talking too much, you sure do talk a lot.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Noah says nervously. ‘Sorry about that. Anyway, I’m Noah and I am super duper cool and I am sure we will be good friends!’

Adam can practically _see_ the fourteen exclamation points following that statement. ‘Hi Noah,’ he grins. ‘Ronan talks about you.’ Ronan notices how his voice sounds different— _wrong_. He doesn’t know what it is but then he realises—the accent. He’s covering it up, there’s not Henrietta drawl and honey, there’s—he’s changing himself, trying to hide his background. God, Adam is the bravest, strongest person Ronan knows – the things he has endured, the things he is _surviving_ – and he’s shrinking and changing himself as to not be _noticed_ —to not stand out. Ronan thinks he should be proud, should be—he doesn’t know. Should be himself because there’s nobody better than that person.

And on a more selfish note, he really, really likes the sound of Adam’s voice – yes, the accent. Fuck this.

‘Oh my,’ Noah says, turning around and batting his eyelashes at Ronan. ‘How sweet. You’re so sweet. You try to be all punk but you really are just a _sweetheart_ inside.’

‘I can confirm,’ Adam says, laughing. ‘Ronan is possibly the biggest fake punk in the world. He sleeps with this stuffed seal.’

‘Fuck _you_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘You gave me that. You _won that to me_.’

‘That’s–’ Noah begins but Ronan sends him a deathly look before he finishes.

‘That doesn’t even surprise me,’ he says. ‘Gansey, do you sleep with teddy bears?’

‘No,’ he says slowly. ‘Do you?’

‘I’m sure Noah will be more than happy to sleep with you,’ Ronan mutters under his breath and Adam elbows his side and whispers a hushed _what the fuck_? Ronan grins up at him, then looks over at Noah who’s blushing and biting his lip.

‘I did when I was younger,’ he says, focusing on Gansey. ‘I had so, so many; my bed almost didn’t have space for me as well.’

‘You didn’t want any of them to feel excluded?’ Gansey asks, smiling at him. Noah is so _adorable_ ; he kind of wants to kiss him. And he looks _good_ – he doesn’t understand how someone can simultaneously be _cute_ and so _hot_. He’s in a crop top and his _hair_ is all—Gansey doesn’t know how to explain. It’s like kind of wavy and just—a really, really _good look._ He swallows hard and smiles up at him.

‘ _Exactly_ ,’ Noah says. ‘Like, I loved them all, you know? So I couldn’t let some of them sleep on the _floor_. I wouldn’t let you sleep on the floor either,’ he adds, grinning at Gansey.

Ronan rolls his eyes, looks over at Adam, and rolls them one more time just for good measure. Adam grins at him.

Gansey flushes bright red and looks down. He’s generally not good at this whole thing but someone as good-looking as _Noah_ saying things like that—what the fuck?

‘I can’t stand this,’ Ronan says, sticking two fingers in his mouth and pretending to gag. ‘What movie are we going to watch anyway?’ He raises his hand before anyone can say anything and continues, ‘ _no_ documentaries, thank you very much.’ He looks at Gansey.

 

‘I wasn’t going to suggest a documentary,’ Gansey says. ‘Though I watched one last weekend about–’

‘Did you not hear what I just said?’ Ronan says. ‘Or did you _choose_ to ignore it?’

‘We should watch a musical,’ Noah says. ‘I vote Heathers because I do a _sick_ re-enacting of Candy Store.’

‘Heathers is _good_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘I’m in.’ He looks from Gansey to Adam, and since none of them interject, he jumps up. ‘OK, let’s do this.’

They have the living room to themselves – everyone had promised to make themselves scarce for the night so Ronan and his friend could have the TV and the room to themselves. Ronan doesn’t know or particularly care where they are. Declan is probably at some girl’s and Matthew is probably playing Ludo with Aurora and Niall.

He puts the movie on and dumps down on the couch between Noah and Adam. Gansey is beside Noah and if he knows Noah at all he’ll probably be leaning his head against his shoulder in less than an hour.

Noah knows every single line of the movie by heart and he rattles them off with perfect timing – and the _songs_. Ronan wants to set himself on fire when Candy Store comes on because in no universe is that song _not_ an euphemism for sex – something everybody who’s ever heard it _has_ to know – and Noah keeps locking eyes with Gansey while singing.

Ronan actually does admire his bravery, how—open about it he is? Maybe it’s just his nature, being all flirtatious and sweet to everyone, but _still_ —

Gansey keeps blushing and breaking eye contact to look away, just to look back up, lips swollen from being bitten. It’s obvious he’s trying to keep his shit together, but it’s also obvious that he wouldn’t mind if Noah lowered himself in his lap and started kissing him.

Or maybe it isn’t, because Ronan is pretty sure that if Noah knew Gansey would be cool with that, he’d do it. And Noah isn’t doing it.

Adam and Ronan don’t look at each other during all of this because neither of them thinks they’ll make it if they do. Adam can barely stand looking at _Noah,_ so he keeps his eyes on the screen and just—tries to ignore how this is painfully about fucking and tries to _not_ think about the nights alone when thinking about Ronan and—

Ronan feels his hands turning sweaty and he looks from Noah to the screen back to Noah. Then, finally, the song is over and Noah grins at Gansey, resting his head on his shoulder and looking at the TV. Ronan figures he could’ve earned some easy money by betting with someone on the head-on-shoulder thing.

Ronan eats popcorn and throws some at Adam to try to break the tension. Adam grins up at him, shoves his hand in the bowl and throws a handful back at Ronan.

‘Gansey, catch,’ Ronan says, throwing one at Gansey and Gansey is too confused and slow to figure out what’s going on so it hits him in the eye. Noah laughs up at him, picks up a handful of popcorn and says, ‘let’s try again.’ He throws it at Gansey and he actually somehow manages to catch it with his mouth, grinning at Noah, who cheers loudly. ‘Woo,’ he grins. ‘Nice.’ He eats the rest of the popcorn in his hand, smiling at Gansey. Gansey is smiling back at him and Ronan wants to scream _just fucking make out already_ because he can’t handle this.

The rest of the night unfolds in the same style as it has so far; watching movies, laughing a lot, sharing embarrassing stories from when they were younger.

Ronan couldn’t be happier with how it turned out – or, well, if Adam hadn’t fixed his accent and if he’d felt like he could _truly_ be himself things would be better, but for now this is all right. They all like each other.

 

* * *

 

Adam has been swimming weekly since he picked it up almost two years ago and one day he’s offered a position as coach for the youngest kids. He’s giddy with excitement about it – first of all it’s a _job_ which means money, and on top of that it’s the pool, and he’s sure it’ll be wonderful.

He adores the kids and the feeling is very much mutual. The kids basically worship the ground he walks on, looking at him with wide eyes and open mouths, hanging on to every word he says – they hug him when he walks into the club and almost won’t let him leave again after practice.

He calms them down in the softest voice whenever they don’t succeed, he’s generally so _soft_ ; hugs them, listens to them tell about their hobbies and siblings, runs his hand through their hair.

Ronan pops in sometimes to see how it goes and his mouth drops like the kids’ when he sees Adam in swimming shorts and a tight t-shirt. He’s kneeling down by the edge of the pool and all the kids are gathered there, all wearing water wings and colourful swimwear. He has a whistle in a string around his neck, his hair is damp and heavy and Ronan wants to set himself on fire or alternatively drown in the pool.

Some days, Adam wears long sleeves and Ronan knows why but he still can’t help finding him unbelievably _hot_.

Adam loves the job – loves watching kids smiling and giggling and splashing water at each other— _happy_. He lets them climb on his back and gives them piggyback rides, he just—he really likes seeing them happy. He wants all kids to just be _happy_ , goddamn it.

The thought of how _good_ of a dad Adam would be crosses Ronan’s mind for all of ten seconds before he shuts it down and forces himself to never, ever think about that again. (It’s true though – he’d be the sweetest, gentlest, most attentive parent – always making sure the kid _never_ doubted for a _second_ that they were the most loved in the whole world.)

One day, Victoria sneaks up on him from behind when he’s looking over at Ronan for a second. ‘Who’s that?’ she asks, looking over at Ronan and back at Adam. ‘Is that your boyfriend?’

‘What?’ Adam asks startled by her bluntness as well as the fact that she managed to sneak up on him. ‘No,’ he says quickly.

‘Oh,’ she says, narrowing her eyes. ‘Would you like him to be?’

‘That is–’ Adam says, swallowing as he feels his cheeks heat up. ‘That is not something we need to discuss. You need to get back in the water, Vic.’

 

* * *

 

‘Ronan,’ Adam says. ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’

‘Shoot,’ Ronan says, smiling up at him. He’s got no idea what Adam is about to say but he’s forcing himself to smile all the same, hoping he isn’t about to throw some bad news at him. Like, that he’s moving across the country, or dying, or dumping him.

‘I’m, uh–’ Adam hesitates, looking down. ‘I’m bi.’

He’d discussed a lot whether he should come out to Ronan – he’s known for years and been content with it for almost as long, but he wasn’t sure whether he should be open about it or not. He knows he can’t tell his family – not that he wants to – but after much deliberating he decided he wanted to tell Ronan.

For a long time he was scared Ronan would be disgusted by him, but then he realised he actually didn’t think he would—what he really thought Ronan would be mad about was Adam having a crush on _him_. Not Adam potentially having crushes on _boys_.

(Ronan’s never said anything negative about his uncles either and after seeing him with Noah who is very openly not-straight, he figured he really is cool with it.)

So here they are, sitting on Ronan’s bed with some movie playing on his laptop.

Ronan wants to scream when the words sink in. Adam is _bi_ – Adam likes _boys_. He wants to jump 20 feet into the air and just _scream_.

Then it hits him that just because Adam likes _boys_ doesn’t mean he likes _Ronan_ – just because he’s bi doesn’t mean he’s got a chance.

‘Cool,’ Ronan says, smiling at him. ‘I’m happy you trust me enough to tell me.’

Adam breathes out shakily and smiles up at him. ‘Of course,’ he says. ‘You’re my best friend. You’re—you mean everything.’

That possibly makes Ronan want to scream even more – he’s ecstatic and euphoric, he’s Adam’s best _friend_. It hits him hard too, though, a feeling of melancholy that Ronan is _in love_ with Adam and it’s not reciprocated.

But that’s OK. It’s all OK.

‘You’re mine,’ he says instead. ‘Most important person in my life.’

 

* * *

 

‘Can you teach me?’ Adam suggests one day and he doesn’t really know why. He’s sitting on the side watching Ronan practice tennis.

Ronan pauses and looks over at him. He lifts up his shirt to wipe away the sweat on his forehead and runs his hand through his hair. Adam tries very hard not to gape at his stomach but he’s failing. Desperately.

‘Sure,’ Ronan says, smiling at him. He throws a racket at him as Adam gets up and moves closer.

They play for a while but Adam is _hopeless_ – Ronan swears and calls him a loser and _God, at least try to hit the ball, Parrish._

He moves closer to him and without really thinking, heat of the moment and all, he’s behind him wrapping his arms around his arms, positioning them correctly and showing him how to swing.

Adam feels Ronan’s chest pressed against his back, his hands on his, his _breathing_ , and his hearts speeds up so fast he’s sure Ronan can _feel_ it. His thoughts are going places where his thoughts aren’t supposed to go so he wiggles out of Ronan’s arms quickly, stutters out _I have to go_ , before running away.

He runs to the locker rooms and locks the door to the toilet stall. He sits down and tries to steady his breathing. OK, he thinks, still able to feel Ronan’s arms heavy around him, the heat radiating off his body and— _fuck_. God, this was never supposed to happen again, ever. Why did I ask if he could _teach_ me? Why am I fucking _idiot_? He’s on top of all of his classes but he is without a doubt the biggest idiot he knows.

Back on the court, Ronan stares at the ground for a while, feeling his stomach drop. He wants to disappear – all he can think about is _oh God; is he that disgusted by me touching him?_

He wants to continue practicing but he can’t focus on anything and he can still feel Adam’s back against his chest – remembers how his entire body tensed up when he felt Adam’s skin on his, can’t remember the last time they’ve _touched_ and—

He gives up. Quickly collects the balls that are scattered around the court and heads to the locker rooms. He turns on the shower and starts humming softly, trying to forget about Adam, and maybe—maybe he _did_ have to go, maybe it’s not because he was grossed out by Ronan touching him, maybe—

Adam’s still in the cubicle and he hears the shower comes on and then he hears Ronan’s voice, all raspy and low, and Adam almost comes just from the sound of it.

Then, he hears Ronan moan softly and if him singing was going to make him come this is going to make him see stars. He speeds up the movement of his hand and bites down on his other fist, trying to swallow regret and shame and every _this is so wrong_ thought popping into his head.

Ronan knows he shouldn’t do this, but he can still feel Adam’s back against him, his hair tickling his chin, and he knows it’s _wrong_ but he doesn’t—especially because Adam apparently thinks the thought of Ronan touching him is the most disgusting thing in the world and maybe that’s why he does it because—that’s an extra level of self-torture, how he’s going to get off thinking about Adam _knowing_ that Adam would find him fucking revolting.

He’s alone so he’s not very strict about being silent, letting out soft moans and gasps, jerking himself roughly. At some point, he almost whispers his name but that’s another level, that’s a line he’s _not_ going to cross, so he bites it down and only thinks it.

When Adam hears him gasp, he speeds up his hand and he comes faster than he ever has before – the sound of Ronan getting off is—intoxicating, really. He imagines the look on Ronan’s face, jaw slack and hanging open, wet hair hanging down in front of his eyes, and he just—can’t _not_.

Then he’s stuck in the cubicle because if he went out Ronan would see him and wouldn’t _that_ be incredible. He cleans himself up and sinks down on the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees.

His mind goes wild. Ronan is probably thinking about some girl – that cute girl he plays with sometimes, the one in a pink tennis skirt who’s always smiling and playing with her hair and shamelessly _flirting_ – and Adam just—Adam just jerked _off_ to the sound of his best friend jerking off and—and it was bad enough, _wrong_ enough, when he did it alone at night in the trailer, biting down on his fist, only _thinking_ about Ronan, this is—this is something else. This is disgusting. Adam is disgusting. He wants to die; he can’t believe he did this.

Ronan finally comes and he’s never hated himself quite that much. He’s coming to terms with how he’s thinking about boys instead of girls but the _specific boy_ he’s thinking about—it’s _wrong_.

 

* * *

 

When Ronan sees his father’s bloody, cold body, he thinks it’s another nightmare. He’s _convinced_ it’s nothing more than another nightmare – he’s been having dreams about this kind of scenario for _months_ so this is nothing more than a repetition.

He pinches his arm. He punches his thigh. He slaps his cheek. He balls his head into a fist and punches the wall as hard as he can.

All this pain, and he’s not waking up. If it were a dream – no, a nightmare – he would’ve woken up by now. He has to face—he has to—it’s not a nightmare. This is real, this is happening, his father is lying in front of him, body twisted to something _wrong_ , all bloody and—

Oh God, he has to throw up.

His vision is blurring and he doesn’t know if it’s tears or if he’s fainting but he moves to his dad as quickly as he can, takes his face in his hand and—God, he really has to throw up. There’s so much _blood_ , he’s never seen so much _blood_ —it’s still sticky but it’s not warm, which means—he’s been here for a while, he died _right here_ and Ronan was _just inside_ and he didn’t—nobody—

He turns around and throws up.

Then he starts crying, he clings to his father’s body like he’s never clung to anything before, it’s like his chest has been broken open and someone stuck their filthy hands inside and _crushed_ his heart—not tore it in two, or ripped it in pieces, but _crushed_ it—there’s nothing anymore, there’s just the dust from where he used to have a heart, there’s—

He doesn’t know how long passes, he just sits there, heaving sobs, trying to catch his breath, running his fingers through his dad’s hair, wiping at his cheeks, pulling him to his chest and squeezing as tight as possible.

He screams too. He thinks he does anyway but he’s not really sure. He doesn’t inhabit his body anymore, it’s just a shell, numb, numb, numb, _hollow_ , but he thinks he screams—screams and screams and screams, cursing God and heaven and earth and everything in between, cursing whoever _did_ this, Ronan doesn’t know who did this—he figures it probably has something to do with dad’s job, he’s never told much about what he actually _does_ – no, fuck _, did –_ for a living so Ronan doesn’t _know_ , but—

He screams and screams and screams and then he stops, then he has no voice left and he just sobs silently into the bloody body, the waves crashing into his own hollow body, he can’t do this, he can’t do this, he can’t do this—

  
Aurora finds him like that an hour later. He’d gone to get the mail and then didn’t come back.

As soon as she sees the shapes on the ground, she knows. Like an instinct, like something in her body cracks and she just _knows_.

She runs to them and drops on the floor beside Ronan, cradling Niall’s body in her arms. She lets out a loud sob, putting his head to her chest and her head on his. She gives herself five minutes to cry, to hug her son and the body of her husband, then pulls away. ‘Stay here,’ she says quietly to Ronan, voice cracking. She wipes away tears, then stands up.

She goes to find Declan. She tells him what’s happened as calmly as he can and when he flies up and goes to run towards the barn, she grabs his wrist. ‘Don’t,’ she says. ‘You don’t need to see this. I need you to call Adam, I need him to come, Ronan needs—stay with Matthew,’ she says after steadying her breathing. ‘Don’t tell him, I’ll do it later. Just—just stay with him, love. Please.’

‘Of course, mom,’ Declan says, swallowing hard.

She pulls him into a tight hug, squeezing so tight Declan almost can’t breathe. He doesn’t mind – they both need this.

Then, she gets her phone and heads back to Ronan.

  
When Adam gets the call, he drops what he’s holding. He’s at the garage. ‘I’m coming,’ he whispers into his phone, somehow gets the word out through the lump in his throat. ‘I’ll be there. I’m coming.’ He hangs up, gets out of his overalls and heads out front.

Boyd is standing there and he raises his eyebrow when he sees Adam – then he sees the look on his face and his voice drops and he asks if he’s OK.

‘I need to leave,’ Adam says, and his voice is so quiet Boyd almost doesn’t hear. ‘Ronan’s dad—I’m—he’s—I have to go.’

Boyd doesn’t press it; he knows a bad situation when he sees one. ‘Go, kid,’ he says, gesturing to the door.

Adam nods, just once, and heads out.

He almost crashes his bike on the way to the Barns, biking as fast as is humanly possible, trying not to cry because the tears will blur his vision and make it impossible to see and thus bike and—he just needs to get to the Barns _now_. He needs to see Ronan, he needs—

He gets there, throws his bike and _sprints_ into the barn.

He finds Ronan sitting on the floor with his arms around his knees, staring at the wall, shaking, silently crying. He looks _dead_ —hollow, empty, _broken_. Adam’s never seen anything like this.

He runs towards him and drops in front of him, softly putting his hands on his arms. ‘Ronan,’ he says quietly, keeping his voice soft and calm. He doesn’t know what to say—knows that nothing will make it better, nothing will comfort him, his world is _broken_ , nothing Adam can say will change _anything_ , he doesn’t—‘Ronan, I’m here.’ He softly wraps his arms around him, pulling him towards his chest.

He hums softly, cradling Ronan. He almost says “it’s OK” but he’s not that evil, he knows it isn’t OK. Instead, he reassures him that he’s here and that he isn’t going anywhere, that he’s _staying_.

Ronan doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even acknowledge Adam is there, just sobs silently and leans into the embrace. His entire life has just been _shattered_.

  
Aurora calls the police. She doesn’t put up an investigation because she knew her husband’s businesses – this was always a threat, the knowledge always there in the background of their lives, that it might—

She tells the police she’ll handle Niall’s funeral and she does. She handles everything with an empty look in her eyes, wide and hollow.

The conversation with Matthew is the toughest conversation she’s ever had. She pulls him into a hug before she starts talking. Then, in a soft voice, she tells him that dad has died. At first Matthew is too shocked for it to really hit him, but then she tells she’s already working on arranging the funeral and then he starts crying. He wraps his arms around her and shakes in her arms, heaving violently into her chest, asking _why, why, why_ over and over again and Aurora has no answers to give. ‘I don’t know, love,’ she whispers into his hair. ‘I don’t know.’

The conversation with Niall’s mother is the second toughest conversation she’s ever had. She calls and her voice almost cracks before she slowly steadies her breathing and begins. ‘Niall’s dead,’ she says. She doesn’t know how else to start; it’s not the time or the place for any kinds of introductions—cut straight to the bone. She waits for his mom to say something before carrying on. ‘I’ll handle everything. Can you come?’

‘I’m–’ she says on the other line and Aurora pictures how she’s putting her hand to her mouth, how her heart is shattering, how she can’t breathe. It’s a familiar feeling.

‘We’re coming,’ she says. ‘Take care of yourself.’

Aurora nods, just once, knowing that she won’t. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  
The casket is half-open, displaying only Niall’s upper body. The undertakers have fixed him up so well he looks to only be asleep—everyone keeps thinking he’ll wake up any second and smile at them, but he _won’t_ , he isn’t _breathing_ , he isn’t—he’s _dead_.

The priest asks God for forgiveness and prays to let him into heaven and everyone cries. Aurora has been detached and emotionless so far, handled everything with a dead look in her eyes, but when she stands before the casket she starts crying. Heavy tears roll down and her entire body shudders with the force of it, her knees give out and she drops to the floor, slowly raising her arms and putting her head in her hands. She cries and cries and cries.

Matthew doesn’t leave her side. He doesn’t let go of her. Partly, because he needs comfort but partly because he thinks _she_ needs _him_.

He’s right, of course.

They stay awake all night praying rosaries. Everyone cries – it’s so _draining_ , emotionally and physically. It’s so— _God_ , none of them have the words to explain. They hug, and hug, and hug – maybe hoping the physical contact will help in some way, keep them grounded and _here_ , but it doesn’t, it doesn’t, it just—they don’t even know. They just—

Ronan is awake for all of it. He’s awake for _days_. The image of his dad’s bloody body keeps playing in his mind, over and over again, he doesn’t—

Dad is _dead_ and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

 

_Last Will & Testament of _

_Niall T. Lynch_

_Article 1_

_Preliminary Declarations_

_I am married to Aurora Lynch and all references in this Will to my spouse refer to Aurora Lynch._

_I have three living children, named Declan T. Lynch, Ronan N. Lynch, and Matthew A. Lynch. All references in this Will to my “child” or “children” or “issue” include the above child or children, and any child or children hereafter born to or adopted by me. All references to “middle son” refer to Ronan N. Lynch._

_Article 2_

_Specific Bequests and Devises_

_I give the sum of Twenty-Three Million Dollars ($23,000,000) to a separate trust which shall provide for the perpetual care and maintenance of the property referred to as “the Barns” (see item B) and for the care, education, and housing of my surviving children. This trust shall be executed by Declan T. Lynch until all children have reached the age of eighteen._

_I give the sum of Three Million Dollars ($3,000,000) to my son Declan T. Lynch, once he has reached the age of eighteen._

_I give the sum of Three Million Dollars ($3,000,000) to my son Ronan N. Lynch, once he has reached the age of eighteen._

_I give the sum of Three Million Dollars ($3,000,000) to my son Matthew A. Lynch, once he has reached the age of eighteen._

_Niall Lynch was, at the time of so executing said Will, of sound mind, memory, and understanding and not under any restraint or in any respect incompetent to make a will. This Will stands as fact unless a newer document is created._

_Signed this day: T’Libre vero-e ber nivo libre n’acrea._

  
After the funeral, Aurora doesn’t speak again. They somehow get back to the Barns and nobody remembers how but Aurora doesn’t _speak_.

Matthew sits with his arms slung around her, head resting on her shoulder, and tries to wake her up. ‘Mom,’ he asks and Aurora has never _not_ replied “yes, love” to that. She has always, always reacted.

She doesn’t react.

‘ _Mom_ ,’ he begs again.

There’s still no response.

Her eyes are glassy, empty. Declan softly shoves her shoulder and her limb body moves and would’ve collapsed on the floor if Matthew weren’t holding her up. ‘Mom,’ he says softly and Matthew looks up at her. Aurora doesn’t react, not a single muscle in her body moves. She’s just looking at— _nothing_. She’s just looking, she just _is_.

‘Mom,’ Matthew says and panic is beginning to sneak into his voice. ‘Mom, it isn’t funny.’

Aurora doesn’t react.

‘We should just—mom, let’s go to bed,’ he whispers, helping her up and almost carrying her to the bedroom. None of them have the energy to brush their teeth or change into something else; instead they just collapse on the bed.

Niall’s family sleeps on mattresses and in the kids’ rooms as Declan, Ronan, and Matthew sleep with their mom. They don’t think about whether it’s strange or bad or they’re too _old_ —they all need the comfort and the feeling of each others’ bodies, the weight and warmth. Matthew lies between his mom and Ronan, legs tangled into Ronan’s and arms around Aurora, head buried in her neck.

None of them are truly _comfortable_ and they don’t get much sleep and yet they wouldn’t change it for the world, wouldn’t want to spend their sleepless night anywhere else.

  
Aurora is as motionless the next day. She doesn’t say anything, has this glassy look in her eyes, and just—Ronan wants to say she just _exists_ but it’s like she isn’t even doing that. She just _is_ —but in a strange way, a _wrong_ way. He wants to scream again but his voice is gone. He chokes out a _mom_ when they wake up but she doesn’t reply. He knows she’s awake because she’s looking right at him, eyes open, but she doesn’t even blink when he says something.

He grabs Declan and drags him with him into the kitchen. Matthew stays behind, arms still wrapped tight around his mom. He’s singing the song he song years ago, ‘ _You’re my honey bunch, sugar plum_ ,’ he sings quietly, voice cracking. ‘I miss him, mom,’ he says. ‘I miss you.’

‘There’s something _wrong_ ,’ Ronan says in the kitchen. ‘She’s—she’s not _here_ , she’s–’

‘I know,’ Declan says quietly, trying to keep his voice calm even though he’s panicking on the inside. ‘I don’t know what to do, I don’t know–’

‘She needs help,’ Ronan says. ‘More than we can–’

Ronan pulls Declan with him further into the house, to where the others are. They’re all awake and Ronan isn’t surprised. ‘Grandma,’ he says quietly. ‘There’s something— _mom_.’

Declan takes over when Ronan swallows hard and grits his teeth, unable to carry on. He wants to punch something—or some _one_ , maybe the person who did this. Whoever fucking _killed his dad_.

‘Mom isn’t responding to anything,’ he says, still trying to keep the panicky tone out of his voice. ‘She’s all–’ he waves his hand in a _you know_ gesture. ‘It’s like she _isn’t here_ , it’s like she—we think she’s having some kind of breakdown, she needs help.’

Ronan sits down on the floor and wraps his arms around his knees. Everything is falling apart—dad is dead and mom is—something like it, which might be even worse because she’s _not_ dead, she’s just—not really _here_ either. He wants to cry but he doesn’t have any tears left so he just squeezes his arms tight around his legs.

His uncle gets up and sits down beside him, pulling him into him and hugging him tight. ‘I’ve got you,’ he says. ‘We’re here, we’ll figure this out.’

  
She’s hospitalised. They’re not sure whether they should come with but in the end Matthew refuses to stay behind so they do. Aurora’s in the backseat of the car between Ronan and Matthew, Declan in the passenger seat, and their uncle driving.

If he were asked to describe the events of the day, Ronan wouldn’t be able to. He remembers flashes – remembers getting into the car, and getting out, and a bunch of doctors and nurses. He remembers Rick signing papers, he remembers being led down a long hall and into a room with bars in front of the window, a nurse telling it’s for the patients’ own safety. He remembers a white room. He remembers the empty, hollow look on his mom’s face – for the rest of his life he’s going to have the image of his dad’s bloody corpse and his mom’s broken down face etched into his memory. He wants to punch the wall. He wants to get so drunk he can’t feel anything. He wants to get so drunk he passes out and never wakes up again so he doesn’t have to carry on living.

Matthew won’t let go of her, clinging to her waist and sobbing into the fabric of her shirt. ‘Mom, mom, mom,’ he begs over and over again and she doesn’t reply at all.

The nurse softly tries to remove his arms but his grip is too tight.

‘Matthew,’ Declan chokes out, dropping to his knees and softly putting his hand on his shoulder. ‘Matty, listen to me. Mom needs some help. The people here are going to help her get better.’

Matthew doesn’t acknowledge him, just continues sobbing into his mother’s shirt. ‘Mom,’ he chokes out, not trying to stop crying because that’d be pointless anyway and he’s _sad_ so why shouldn’t he be allowed to _cry_?

‘Matthew,’ Ronan says, also choking. ‘Matthew, mom’s going to be OK,’ he says and he doesn’t know if it’s a lie or not. He hopes it’s not—he doesn’t want it to be. If he repeats it enough times, if he believes it, it _won’t_ be a lie – she _will_ get better. ‘She just needs help,’ he says softly.

‘I want to help her,’ Matthew says and it’s muffled by Aurora’s shirt. ‘Mom, I want to help you.’

‘We know,’ Declan says, stroking his back softly. His voice is wet. ‘We want to help her too. We just—she needs something _more_ ,’ he adds. ‘She needs the doctors here.’

‘Why am I not enough?’ Matthew says, finally turning his head and looking up at his big brother. Declan’s entire heart shatters when he sees the look on Matthew’s face, hears what he’s asking.

‘You’re enough,’ Declan says, moving forward and wrapping his arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. ‘You are so enough,’ he whispers. ‘And she’s going to get better and we’re all going to help her get there. She just needs _even_ more—she needs medicine and doctors talking to her. This isn’t because she doesn’t love you or you’re not enough. She’s not in control, she’s–’

‘Mom loves you, Matthew,’ Ronan says quietly. ‘So much.’

‘I love her,’ Matthew says, wiping at his eyes. ‘I want her to come back.’

‘She will,’ Declan says. ‘Hopefully. If she gets help.’

  
Ronan shuts down and pushes everyone away. He doesn’t reply to texts or calls.

He’s living at the Barns with Declan and Matthew – they’d wanted to stay together, to try to continue as best as possible. Declan and Ronan had sat down and had a long talk about what would be best for Matthew – they had to think about _Matthew_. They’re hoping the stability of it will not only help him, but also themselves.

Grandma and Rick stayed for a couple of weeks, helping set everything up until they were a little more on their feet again.

Ronan is not on his feet; he’s face first collapsed on the ground, trying to break himself into a million pieces. He knows this a terrible coping mechanism but he wants to fucking _hurt_.

He pushes everyone away because he can’t deal with them and being alone is more _hurt_ , which he wants, but also because—because he knows he’s a _wreck_ and he doesn’t want anyone to see him like this. He doesn’t want Adam or Noah or Gansey to see him broken up like this, all mess and vodka on his tongue.

He doesn’t sleep and when he does he has nightmares – him pulling the trigger, killing his dad; his dad’s body; his mom suddenly waking up just to scream and scream and scream at Ronan for _killing Niall_ , it’s your _fault_ , how could you let this _happen_. He wakes up gasping and sweating, pushes off the covers and leaves the house.

He gets into the car – the only thing he’s left from his dad – and he hits the road. It’s dark, it’s messing with danger, and that’s what he _wants_. So what if he fucking dies? He wants to anyway. If the car crashes into another or he overdoses or he—what does it matter anyway?

Matthew sleeps in his bed a lot of nights, clinging to Ronan’s body. Ronan looks down at him and he wants to kill the person whose fault this all is – the person who killed his dad. He hates this, he hates this, he hates this.

  
School starts up again and if the circumstances were different Adam would’ve been overjoyed – he got into Aglionby, what he’d worked so hard for, but without Ronan it’s—

He tries to bury himself in even more work to ignore the way everything _hurts_. He misses Niall and Aurora too – they were the closest thing he ever had to a family and now they’re _gone_ and on top of that he’s mostly lost Ronan too.

He sees him around town – molten eyes and leather jacket, he looks exhausted and broken and—he looks so unlike the boy Adam grew up with and it breaks Adam’s heart. He wishes he’d open up to him, that he’d stop pushing him away, that they could—work through this, together.

He’s not angry at him – not mad about the way he’s coping, because—OK, he _is_ frustrated that Ronan is choosing self-destruction as way to survive but he _gets_ it, in a way. Bad coping mechanisms are still coping mechanisms and this shit will scar, but he’s _alive_.

Which has got to count for something.

Eventually, he hopes, Ronan will come back to him. He sends him texts letting him know he’s there. He leaves a voicemail, ‘Ronan,’ he says, choking. ‘I know you’re—things are—I’m sorry,’ he tries instead, exhaling slowly. ‘I miss you and I miss them and if I can do anything—please. Please, I’m here, I–’

He hangs up. He doesn’t know if Ronan will even ever hear it because he knows Ronan hates phones and he probably hates Adam as well now.

  
Ronan’s always drawn, for catharsis, for fun, whenever bored—doodles all over his homework, swirly designs in the margins and corners of his papers, he’s always done it. And he still does, now, in the middle of being broken up and grieving and desperately wanting to both break down and cry and hold it all together because if he starts he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop.

One day, he jumps into the car and next things he knows he’s sitting shirtless in front of the tattoo artist while she copies the design onto his skin. He didn’t consider it long, didn’t really think about it, he just—so he needed to hurt, all right, and he figured putting some art on his body was less destructive than getting drunk again.

It hurts and that’s nice but he still thinks for a second about how nice it would’ve been if Adam were there to hold his hand. He doesn’t even bother to push the thought away because what’s the point?

So he wants to hold his best friend’s hand, and he wants to kiss him, and he wants to be his boyfriend – so fucking what? His dad has just died and his mom is in the hospital and he doesn’t know if she’s ever going to get better so is it really that big of a deal that he’s in love with a _boy_?

And said boy isn’t going to find out ever anyway so what if he thinks about holding his hand while the tattoo artist stabs a needle into his skin two thousand times per minute?

He shaves his head that night. His back is sore so it hurts when he leans over but he does it anyway. He needs to do something, needs to _change_ , so he does everything he can—

He works out too. Or rather, he starts working out _more_. Taking his rage and pain out by pushing his body to the limit, pushing it _over_ —feeling like he can’t possibly do a single more sit-up so he does twenty instead, getting so tired he can’t feel his arms and changing to even harder exercises, taping his fingers and punching the punching bag till he can’t breathe, and he runs—he runs and runs and runs, he can’t run away from his pain so he runs faster, tries _harder_ , he’s so tired and sore and exhausted, he doesn’t sleep, he wakes up from nightmares and goes to work out because he doesn’t know how else to _deal_ with it, deal with _living_ , deal with—deal with being.

  
Adam is sitting at the bleachers, a book open in his lap. He’s not studying though; he’s just looking at the horizon, empty look in his eyes.

He’d gone to see the tennis team practice, knowing full well Ronan wouldn’t be there but still hoping, irrationally maybe, but still hoping.

Practice is over now, but he couldn’t make himself leave so he’s just sitting there, staring at nothing.

Gansey and Noah come around and spot him and cautiously walk up to him, sitting down beside him on each side. Adam doesn’t acknowledge them at first; too caught up in thoughts—the man he admired as a father is _dead_ ; the first and only woman who ever showed him any kind of affection and love, made him feel part of a family is away; his best friend – the person he’s fucking _in love_ with, the first one to look at him _soft,_ to treat him _soft_ won’t talk to him, he’s—he’s practically lost

‘I don’t know what to do,’ Adam says, looking up at first Gansey, then Noah. His face is hopeless. ‘He’s—he won’t talk to me, has he talked with any of you?’

‘I’ve texted and called him,’ Gansey says. ‘But he doesn’t pick up or reply.’

‘Have you talked with his family?’ Noah asks, fidgeting with his fingers.

‘I called Declan,’ Gansey says. ‘He can’t get through to him either…’

‘I don’t know what to _do_ ,’ Adam says again. ‘I hate not knowing what to fucking _do_. I miss him.’

‘Me too,’ Noah agrees.

‘I don’t know what we can really–’ Gansey says, pausing. ‘If he doesn’t _want_ us, I don’t know—we need to let him know we’re here if he wants but I don’t know what more we can do…’

‘I hate this,’ Adam says. ‘I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.’

  
Ronan is tired. The looks Matthew sends him are breaking his heart, the way Declan looks at him makes him angry but also _sad_ , he’s—

He wants to get better, he does, but it’s—it’s terrifying, really, because it’s hard work, and right now it’s easier to wallow in vodka and self-destruction than facing _that_ – than learning how to move on and live with it and _continue._

In a way, he feels like that’d be letting down his dad. Being happy again – as if he didn’t love dad enough, then; he has to _mourn_ and he has to _hurt_ because dad dying has torn his life to pieces so if he _stops_ —was the love fake all along? Is it going to make him a bad son?

He thinks though, too, that dad probably wouldn’t—dad was all play fights and bad jokes and the loudest, booming kind of laugh Ronan’s ever heard, dad was all—dad was _home_. And dad wanted his kids happy, he probably wouldn’t want Ronan like this, _hurting_ like this, so dad would _want_ him to get better, to find a way to reconcile everything, to—

And mom, too. Mom is all broken up because of dad’s death and it’s the worst thing ever, but mom—mom would want them happy too. Mom would want them as happy as they could possibly be. “‘As long as you are happy,” he remembers her saying. “I’ll be very, very happy.”

He’s tired. He’s so fucking _tired_ and _sick_ of feeling so fucking _destroyed_. It’s so exhausting being so _broken_.

And he knows, fighting his way towards something that looks like some kind of happiness, that’s—that’s going to be fucking exhausting too, that’s going to—that’s hard work, that’s going to be a fight, but—damn, if fighting isn’t the most punk thing he can think of.

But he can’t do it alone. He can’t—if he stays like this, if he keeps pushing everyone away, he’ll get stuck in this circle of hell, this drunk street-racing, self-destructive _hell_.

So he needs people. Admitting that you _need_ people is—possibly even more terrifying than admitting you aren’t all right, admitting that you’re currently handling things _badly_ and if you want to survive you need to _change_.

Adam has always been good. Adam is _good_ , Adam is—Adam represents, in a way, the things he’s lost: love, and happiness, and home. Dad was home but so is Adam.

He doesn’t know if he can get fully _back_ , doesn’t know how much better he can get, but he wants— _needs_ —to try, he wants as much of it as he possibly can.

He needs to start letting people back in.

  
Adam is finishing up work in the garage and when he goes outside Ronan is there. He’s sitting on the ground, hugging his legs.

Adam is surprised, overwhelmed—he hasn’t seen Ronan this close in so, so long, and here he is—just as he’d finally begun to think that maybe it was done, maybe it was over, maybe he’d never see him again.

Ronan looks up at him. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he says. ‘I’m so sorry.’

Adam drops to his knees and slings his arms around him. He hugs him tight and it’s like something inside breaks loose and he starts crying. ‘It’s OK,’ he whispers. ‘Don’t apologise.’

Ronan cries then. He hasn’t cried since the funeral – he has wanted to but hasn’t really been able. He wraps his arms around Adam and puts his head on his shoulder and just cries softly, shaking.

Neither of them knows how long they sit there but it’s long. When they’re finally out of tears, they get up, and Ronan asks if Adam will come with him back to the Barns.

‘Always,’ Adam says, nodding. He takes Ronan’s hand and squeezes it reassuringly – a reminder that he’s there and that he won’t leave and that they’re both real and exist. They’re both hurting but they _are_ —and that counts for something too.

  
Slowly, Ronan starts letting Adam in again.

It’s not perfect and it’s far from good yet but he’s opening up, he’s admitting he’s in pain, and without words he’s saying he needs help.

And he lets them help him.

Adam tells him to call or text him when he wants to get drunk and he knows he’s not able to give him the same but he’ll try to do what he can. He sleeps over a lot of nights, on a mattress on Ronan’s floor. Ronan is always awake both when Adam falls asleep and when he wakes up again. He doesn’t know how much sleep he’s getting but it’s not enough.

He’s falling behind in school as well but that’s a subject Adam doesn’t want to push – right now, he’s got to focus on survival; everything else will come second. School is important but right now if Ronan makes it _to_ school—that’s a win.

‘Can we just–’ Ronan says one day. ‘Can you all just come over and we can watch Heathers or something?’

‘Sure,’ Adam says. ‘Text them and we can hang out Saturday?’

‘Nice,’ Ronan says. ‘Thank you.’

 

Ronan, [14:35]

hey are u up for watching heathers (or smth else??) sat ?

 

Noah, [14:35]

I’M ALWAYS UP FOR HEATHERS !!!!

 

Gansey, [14:37]

of course! when?

 

Ronan, [14:38]

come over @ 5 ?

 

Noah, [14:38]

perfect!

 

Gansey, [14:39]

sounds good! see you then.

  
They visit Aurora in the hospital, just Adam and Ronan. He’s going to go with both Dec and Matthew later but right now he just needs—he needs just to be with mom and Adam.

They sit down on the two chairs beside the bed Aurora’s half-sitting in, smiling in a dazed way like she’s not really there. Ronan knows that she’s probably not really there.

Ronan looks at her and he can’t breathe.

He takes Adam’s hand and Adam looks at him with the softest expression. He squeezes his hand reassuringly and runs his thumb over his palm. Ronan clenches so hard Adam loses all feeling in his hand.

Aurora doesn’t say anything, just looks at them like—Ronan doesn’t know if she even recognises them. He hopes she does—she’s his _mom_ , and he wants her _back_. He knows it’s not that easy, that it’s all messy and weird and he wishes it wasn’t, wishes he could _fix_ it, that they could go back, that things could—

They didn’t bring anything. He contemplated bringing flowers but he thought it too cliché and, besides, what’s the use for flowers? Hell, if flowers would help her he’d buy a whole field of tulips, but they won’t, so what’s the point?

‘I miss him too, mom,’ he chokes out quietly, looking up at her and blinking away tears. ‘I miss him so _fucking_ much.’

He wishes he could say there was a flicker of something in her eyes—like she came back to life for a second, like she was _there_ and she saw and recognised her son, but he can’t because—because he didn’t, really. He didn’t see a trace of anything, just empty, blank nothingness.

He looks over at Adam, wipes away a tear and squeezes his hand. _God_ , he hates this. He hates this, he hates this, he hates this.

 

* * *

 

They start hanging out at Nino’s after school sometimes. Noah likes the ice cream and the milkshakes and Ronan is hyperaware that anything is better than beer if he wants to not relapse into shit again.

(Sometimes, he still relapses into shit – picks up the car keys, instead of his phone to text Parrish, goes for a ride instead of comfort.)

Gansey tried to charm Blue the first time and failed so spectacularly Ronan couldn’t stop laughing for ten minutes. Gansey was blushing furiously but he didn’t mind much, really, if Ronan laughing like that was the end result. Hell, he’d embarrass himself all over again if it meant making his friends laugh like that.

‘That,’ Noah says. ‘Was awful. Watch and learn.’

He goes up to the counter and nobody knows which words are exchanged between him and Blue but he comes back with a tray with milkshakes for everyone and Blue’s number scribbled on a small piece of paper. He winks at them and dumps down next to Gansey, putting the red straw in his mouth and sucking.

‘You’re too much,’ Ronan says, shaking his head slowly.

‘I’m fucking amazing, thank you very much.’

‘How’d you do that?’ Gansey says, looking confused at Noah.

‘Same way I got yours,’ he smirks, retuning his attention to his strawberry milkshake.

Ronan rolls his eyes and picks up a glass from the tray. ‘You’re too fucking much, man…’

‘Blue is fiery,’ Adam says.

‘What are you all saying about me?’ she says, suddenly standing at their table. She stares Gansey down, then smiles at Noah.

‘I’m saying you’re wonderful and I love you,’ Adam says, grinning up at her. ‘Which is true.’

‘Damn right,’ she says, running her fingers through his hair. ‘Anyway, I’m Blue. How’s things at the prep school?’

‘All right,’ Adam says, making space in the booth for Blue to sit down.

Ronan eyes her up – his feelings are a mess and he’s not even sure _what_ he’s feeling towards Blue. He likes her well enough, she’s funny and _good_ , and there’s not the jealousy aspect of her dating Adam any longer – but he’s not sure whether she hurt him and if she did—well.

So they have a staring contest. Blue doesn’t blink or look down – Blue Sargent doesn’t _lose_ —and especially not to people like Ronan _Lynch_.

Ronan ends up looking away first, trying to mask it by yawning and stretching his arms, looking over at the door.

Then, Blue continues the parade of embarrassing Gansey and once again Ronan laughs louder than he has for _weeks_.

Adam looks over at him, not able to hide the small smile playing on his lips.

Slowly but surely Ronan is returning – not like he was before, because he’ll never be able to be like that careless kid, but he’s growing into a new Ronan; maybe his smile is made for war, but it’s a smile. He’s smiling again and Adam has never been happier.

 

* * *

 

Adam sees the tattoo the first day Ronan is back on the tennis field. He’s at the field beside – with his homework, thank you very much, he’s not strictly there to see Ronan – when he walks out in tennis whites with a racket in his hand.

The shirt is tight and since it’s white it’s mostly see-through – and there are _patterns_ on Ronan’s back, _black._ Did Ronan—did Ronan get _tattooed_?

He swallows hard and looks down at his textbook, trying to focus on calculus but failing so spectacularly because he keeps looking up and is met with the sight of Ronan running around on the field, all sweaty and out of breath, and the _ink_ —his shirt is so tight Adam thinks he might collapse.

He builds up the courage to ask about it and does so when Ronan comes over to him afterwards.

‘Oh,’ Ronan says, grinning down at him. ‘You wanna see it?’

Adam nods and Ronan pulls his shirt over his head and turns his back to him. Adam stares, and stares and stares and stares. It’s clear that Ronan has worked out – _God_ , he’s fucking _toned_ and his _back muscles_ and the black _ink_ and—the tattoo is actually amazing.

He can see flowers, and a beak, and what looks like a scythe; vicious and lovely and dark and so—so _Ronan_ , the new Ronan, that it almost hurts. He wants to reach out, wants to _touch_ it, and maybe he wants to touch Ronan’s muscles too but that’s _not_ the point, he wants to—

Ronan turns around, still smiling down at Adam. ‘What do you think?’ he asks and Adam brings up his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. ‘It’s–’ Adam says, realising he doesn’t actually have words to describe it or what it’s making him feel. ‘It’s very _you_.’ He smiles at him.

Ronan grins down at him, and drags his balled-up shirt across his forehead to wipe off sweat. ‘That good or bad?’ he says.

‘That’s good,’ Adam says, biting his lip. ‘Really good.’

 

* * *

 

Ronan wakes up screaming, punching the air wildly. He sits up and gasps for breath, the night terror still stuck on the insides of his eyelids: his dad, blood, Ronan’s finger pulling the trigger.

He opens his eyes and stares at the fluorescent stars on the wall, shaking his head trying to get the image out. He’s shaking, can’t control his body—sobbing, gasping, still punching his fist into the wall.

Adam wakes up and gets up from the mattress on the floor and climbs into Ronan’s bed. He’s still not fully awake which might be why he does it. He wraps his arms around Ronan and pulls him down with him, just holds him and whispers reassuringly. ‘ _It’s OK, Ronan, it’s OK, it was a dream, you’re here, I’m here, we’re safe, you’re real and safe and here…’_

Ronan is shaking in his arms and dryly sobbing, rough heaves of breath, not saying anything, holding onto Adam’s arms so tight it’s going to bruise.

Adam pulls him into him and places his head on his chest, softly running his hands over Ronan’s shaved head, still whispering how he’s safe, how it was a nightmare—

Neither of them fall asleep again. They just lie awake, listening to the other’s heartbeat, sharing body heat, simply trying to find some kind of solace and safety in each other’s existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> disclaimer: i have various mental illnesses & have been hospitalised multiple times in my life so i hope i have handled aurora's arch well and non-offensively. if not, please tell me and i will do everything to fix it!


	9. Sixteen years old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gosh darn heckie these chapters keep getting longer i am sorry. also i apologise deeply that this chapter is later aaaa i hope its all right & u like it & and yall are doing well !!!! xx

Adam misses holding Ronan’s _hand_.

There are the nights alone where his mind plays images of Ronan shirtless, the tattoo, skin against skin against clean sheets and Ronan’s heavy breathing and shaking fingers and he wants that, of course; he sometimes thinks about him and Ronan alone in the car and fogged-up windows and other things like that which Ronan can _never_ know, but he also really just misses holding his hand.

And hugging him. And softly running his fingers through his hair and touching in _any_ way.

Just fingers laced together or thighs pressed together or— _God_ , any kind of touch that doesn’t _hurt_. The Lynches were always the only kind of touch that didn’t _hurt_ – even after Ronan and Adam stopped holding hands (which Adam didn’t really want to, but he figured they were past that – it was a thing for _kids_ ) Aurora still hugged him; Matthew too.

There was _softness_ – there still is, Ronan has changed into sharp edges that could cut you, but he’s still soft with Adam. He’s not all new, all different, he’s still the Ronan Adam grew up with, just something _more_ —he was always a paradox, an enigma, a combination of millions of things; now he’s just even _more_.

And Adam misses holding his hand. He misses— _craves_ —touch in the most innocent of ways; a pad on the back, holding hands, fingers softly running through his hair.

Everyone in school is all about blowjobs and car sex and he just—he just wants someone to hold his hand. He just wants Ronan to hold his _hand_.

 

* * *

 

Ronan is sitting cross-legged on the floor with his back against the wall, looking up at Adam on the bed.

They’re alone at the Barns – Declan took Matthew to organ practice. Everything is soft, calm – it’s about five in the evening and the sun is shining through the window and there are the quiet sounds of the countryside outside.

‘Can you play something for me?’ Adam asks, voice soft too. He’s heard him play, and sing, and practice millions of times, but today feels different.

Ronan grabs his guitar and sits back on the floor. He starts playing and closes his eyes.

‘You look so wonderful in your dress,’ he sings, voice soft and deep. ‘I love your hair like that…’ He continues singing and playing, eyes still closed and face softened in concentration. He opens his eyes and locks gazes with Adam as he sings the next part, ‘you look so beautiful in this light, your silhouette over me…’

He closes his eyes again and keeps singing, voice gentle and beautiful and Adam is trying not to start crying because Ronan just sang a love song while looking him in the eye and he wishes it was—some kind of _real_ , that maybe Ronan loved him back like this and this was his way telling—but that’s vain, and arrogant, and not real.

Ronan finishes the song and opens his eyes slowly, looking up at Adam.

Adam’s eyes are teared up and he doesn’t want Ronan to see so he brings his legs close to his chest and rests his head on his arms. Ronan doesn’t know what’s going on, but he quietly starts playing another song that’s just as soft but not as romantic.

Adam lets the waves of Ronan’s voice wash over him and keeps his eyes closed, wishing he could live in this moment forever, wishing he could sit down beside Ronan and softly press his lips to his cheek, watch Ronan’s face light up in a grin as he continues playing.

Ronan tries to keep his voice steady and just concentrate on the chords as he plays the next song. The first choice had probably been too obvious and now Adam _knows_ and he isn’t _saying_ anything—he daydreams for a second about putting the guitar down and kissing Adam, but he knows that’d be too weird, so instead he focuses on playing the song right.

 

* * *

 

Noah throws himself on Ronan’s bed. ‘I just don’t _get_ it,’ he says, rolling over and picking up the stuffed seal and squeezing it between his hands. ‘What haven’t I been clear about? Or have I been clear and Gansey just doesn’t like me?’ He looks up at Ronan and blinks slowly.

Ronan stares back at him, eyes widening. ‘Oh my _God_ ,’ he says. ‘Are you joking? Are you _actually_ joking right now?’

‘Fuck you,’ Noah says, reaching over to give him a half-assed punch to the shoulder. ‘I’m going to die alone.’

Ronan rolls his eyes. ‘I mean, yeah, sure, Gansey absolutely _loathes_ you,’ he says then. ‘The way he looks at you like he wants you to _tie him up_ and suck him off _in his car_. It’s just–’ he waves his hand in front of him in a vague gesture. ‘It’s just so full of _hatred_ , you know?’

Noah looks up at him and this time he punches his shoulder properly. ‘You know I’d actually do that,’ he says. ‘If he actually _looked at me like that_.’

‘Noah,’ Ronan says. ‘Seriously. I’m pretty sure Gansey is into you.’

‘Then why doesn’t he _say something_ ,’ Noah despairs, rolling over and laying his head in Ronan’s lap. ‘I mean, he could just be like, “hey Noah do you want to go out with me?”’ He pauses for a second. ‘Really, he wouldn’t even have to ask that. He could just ask if I wanted to make out.’

‘I know,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes. ‘I fucking _know_. You two are nauseating.’

‘We’re not even _dating_ ,’ Noah says. ‘Sadly…’

‘Might as well be,’ Ronan says. ‘You were literally playing with his hair yesterday.’

‘I _know_ ,’ Noah whines. ‘It was so soft. He has really nice hair, have you noticed?’

‘No,’ Ronan says.

‘Well, he does,’ he carries on. ‘ _God_ , I was _playing with his hair_. And he didn’t _say anything_. That means he doesn’t like me and we won’t have kids together and I’m going to _die alone_.’

‘Noah,’ Ronan says. ‘Shut the fuck up.’

‘Fuck you,’ he says, rolling over again. ‘Whatever. I want to bake. We should bake. You’re a good baker. Let’s make cupcakes, we can text Gansey if he wants to come over to taste.’

‘Sure, that’s what you want him to taste…’

Noah punches Ronan’s shoulder but he’s grinning widely at him, then grabs him by the wrist and drags him up from the bed. ‘You know it,’ he says and Ronan rolls his eyes.

 

* * *

 

They’re in the kitchen at the Barns. They can hear the sound of the TV running; Matthew is watching something. Ronan is cooking and Adam is leaning against the counter, facing him.

Ronan thinks he looks ridiculously cute.

‘Hand me the salt, Parrish,’ he says, stirring with the spoon.

‘Nah,’ Adam says.

‘It’s right behind you.’

Adam shrugs and yawns.

‘Hand me the salt, Fuckrish.’

Adam grins at him, ‘I swear your jokes keep getting worse.’

‘ _Fine_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘I’ll get it myself. Loser.’ He walks towards Adam, and reaches behind him to get the salt when he _trips_. He curses for a second because _how_ did he just trip over his own feet—and then he realises his face is about five centimetres from Adam’s, and his arms are by Adam’s sides, effectively pinning him against the counter.

Ronan freezes, his breath catching in his throat. He swallows hard and bites down on his lower lip.

Adam unfolds his arms and softly puts his hands on Ronan’s chest, not looking away from his eyes.

Ronan snaps out of it, and realises Adam is probably about to push him away so he steps back, grabs the salt, and turns away before letting Adam see how worked up he is.

Adam wasn’t going to push him away. He awkwardly puts his hands back at the counter and licks his lips. He wouldn’t have pushed him away.

 

* * *

 

‘Mom,’ Ronan says softly, looking up at Aurora. He’s in the hospital with her, just him.

The room is more like a dorm room than a regular hospital room. There’s a framed photograph on the bedside table; in it are Aurora and Niall and their three sons, all laughing, the sun shining behind them. Ronan knows Declan brought it here and he felt some kind of weird about it but he wasn’t really able to place _why_. He looks over at it, and then looks at the book lying beside it. He’s pretty sure the bookmark hasn’t moved since he was here the last time.

‘Mom,’ he says again, squeezing her hand. She looks down at him and for a _second_ it feels like—it looks like she’s _there_.

She doesn’t say anything but a small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth and Ronan’s chest bursts open with the recognition of it—it’s _mom_.

He takes a deep breath, looks down at their clasped hands, then looks up again and focuses on her face. ‘Mom, I have to—I have to tell you something.’ He swallows hard and avoids her face for a second.

He thinks he feels her squeezing his hand, but he could be imagining it.

‘I think I’m–’ he says and pauses to steady his breathing. ‘No, I know. I know I’m—I’m like uncle Rick.’ He swallows hard and looks up at his mom.

Her chest rattles as she takes a deep breath and the ghost of a soft smile plays on her lips. She catches Ronan’s eye and he swallows again, almost choking on all this _feeling_.

‘Is it Adam?’ she asks so quietly Ronan almost doesn’t hear it, her voice nothing more than a croaky shadow of what once was.

Ronan nods, feeling terrified of everything that’s happening right now; opening up, admitting, sharing what he’s never shared with anyone before—and _mom_ , breathing softly, her eyes on him in a way they haven’t been since before—since before dad died, since before—

‘Tell me about it,’ she whispers and it sounds like she’s a million miles away, like she’s in space, or underwater, or _gone_ and Ronan is not, he’s on Earth, alone and lonely and sad because he misses her so, so much, and he leans in and hugs her as the tears start falling quietly, his body shaking as she slowly wraps her arms around him.

She doesn’t say anything but she softly runs her hand up and down his back and Ronan sobs quietly into his shoulder as he starts talking.

‘It’s Adam,’ he whispers. ‘I think it’s always been.’ He pauses, steadies his breathing, wipes his eyes and hugs her tightly, squeezes. ‘I think the first time I really, _really_ , wanted—wanted to kiss him, was when we came home from Ireland and I hadn’t seen him in six weeks and—he was standing there and he looked so _different_ and I–’ he pauses again, tries to clear his throat, not even bothering to hate himself for how wet his voice sounds. He breathes slowly for a second, just savouring this moment—hugging _mom_ , and it might be—it might be the last conversation they’re ever going to have because he doesn’t know if she’s ever—if she’s going to—if—

‘I think I’m in love with him,’ he whispers and saying the words out loud feels both terrifying and mind-blowing and _good_. ‘I think I am so, so in love with him.’

 

* * *

 

‘Gansey,’ Ronan says. ‘Please do something to make Czerny shut up.’

Gansey looks over at Ronan and swiftly pushes his glasses up his nose. ‘What do you mean?’

Ronan looks from Noah to Gansey. ‘I’m trying to do homework,’ he says. ‘Noah’s loud. Shut him up. Kiss him or something, what do I know.’

Gansey keeps his posture but only barely; the way his cheeks turn red and he runs his hand through his hair don’t escape Ronan.

‘Why would you say that?’ he asks quietly but Ronan is pretty sure Noah hears it.

‘Because I can’t fucking concentrate with him blabbering on and on,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes as if that was obvious. And as if that was what Gansey was asking about.

Noah leans over and runs his fingers through Gansey’s hair and grins down at him. ‘I’ll be quiet,’ he says quietly. ‘Don’t worry.’

‘Oh God,’ Ronan says. ‘I’m throwing up. Leave me alone. Get a room.’

Gansey doesn’t look away from Noah, even though he knows he probably should. He doesn’t get why Ronan had to suggest that he should _kiss_ him, because now he’s thinking about it, and wondering what it would be like. Gansey has never kissed anyone before but he’s pretty sure Noah has, and he’s also pretty sure Noah is an excellent kisser. Maybe he could ask him to teach him – or would that be weird? That would probably be weird. Noah would probably think Gansey was into him and it was just some lame excuse to have him in his lap which, to be fair, it kind of would be, but—that would mess things up, probably. Because Noah pretty clearly doesn’t want to sit in Gansey’s lap and he doesn’t want to kiss him or—do those things. Why did Ronan have to say this?

Gansey coughs and forces himself to look away. ‘Do you need help?’ he asks, looking back up at Ronan.

‘I’m _Irish_ not _incompetent_ ,’ Ronan says.

‘I wasn’t–’ Gansey stutters. ‘I didn’t mean that.’

‘I know,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes. ‘Anyway, I’m not going to do this anyway so we should watch a movie or something.’

‘You have to do your homework,’ Gansey says and he looks exasperated.

‘OK mom,’ Ronan says, closing his book. ‘I will do my homework later and I will go to bed early and I will remember to brush my teeth.’

‘Good,’ Gansey says. ‘And call your boyfriend goodnight.’

Ronan turns red and glares at Gansey. ‘We’re not dating,’ he says.

‘But you instantly knew who he was referring to,’ Noah laughs, pointing finger guns at Ronan. ‘Makes you think, doesn’t it?’

‘Fuck you,’ Ronan says, looking down. ‘On second thoughts, start staring into each others’ eyes in a gay way again and leave me alone, I don’t like either of you.’

Gansey and Noah don’t look at each other but instead both send Ronan pointed looks.

‘We should watch a movie,’ Noah says, looking back over at Gansey with a wide smile on his face. ‘What do you want to watch?’

‘There’s this documentary I’ve been meaning to watch,’ Gansey begins and Ronan yawns loudly. Gansey looks over at him but Noah grabs his wrist, which makes him turn his attention back to him.

‘Ignore him,’ Noah says. ‘Keep talking.’

‘All right,’ Gansey says, smiling up at Noah.

 

* * *

 

‘Noah won’t stop whining about how Gansey doesn’t like him even though it’s _obvious_ that he does,’ Ronan says, letting his head drop back against the wall.

Adam looks over at him, swallows hard, and doesn’t say anything for a second.

 _Is this about me?_ he wonders for a second. Is this a nice way of saying “hey, Adam, by the way I know you like me and it’s kind of annoying could you stop?”

He shakes his head and tries to smile up at Ronan. ‘I’m pretty sure Gansey likes Noah,’ he says. ‘Do you remember when he sang Candy Store?’

‘I remember when he sang Candy Store,’ Ronan says in a tone that makes it clear he wishes he didn’t. ‘That was— _God_.’

‘Isn’t it about sex?’ Adam asks.

‘It’s about _sex_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘I hate him.’

Adam looks at him for a second just smiling softly. ‘You don’t, really,’ he says then.

Ronan rolls his eyes. ‘I know,’ he says. ‘But don’t tell him that.’

‘I don’t have to,’ Adam says. ‘The fact that you even speak to him is proof enough…’

Ronan doesn’t say anything for a long minute. He’s just looking at Adam and contemplating saying something that could potentially break everything. _Does that mean I not-hate you the most since I’ve spoken to you for the longest?_

He knows the answer is yes, but he doesn’t know if Adam knows. He’s not sure if Adam knows. He’s let it be known in different ways at different times – from inviting him to the cinema to telling him he’s his best friend, the most important person in his life.

He doesn’t think Adam really _knows_ but he also can’t bring it up without making things weird.

In the end, he doesn’t say anything at all but just looks at his friend with a soft smile playing on his lips.

Adam is smiling back at him. ‘Noah and Gansey would be cute,’ he says and Ronan nods. ‘If they could just get their heads out their asses and realise the feelings are _reciprocated_.’

 

* * *

 

‘Do you like these?’ Noah asks, holding up a bag of lollipops. They’re skipping school and currently in the middle of a grocery store.

Ronan looks at the bag, then back at Noah. ‘Probably,’ he says. ‘You want them?’

‘Yes,’ Noah says, putting them into the kart. ‘I’ll eat one in front of Gansey.’

‘That’s–’ Ronan says. ‘That’s fucking _gross_.’

‘Thought you were going to say gay but yeah that too, I guess,’ Noah muses, picking up something else from the shelf. ‘Do we need this?’

‘What is it?’ Ronan asks, looking confused.

‘I don’t know,’ Noah says. ‘Looks pretty cool though.’

‘We probably don’t need something you don’t even know what _is_.’

‘All right,’ Noah says, putting it back. ‘Hey, you know what we should do?’

‘I don’t know if I want to know…’

‘We should make ice cream,’ he says and then his facial expression turns into one of wonder before Ronan gets to answer. ‘What day is it?’ Noah wonders, still looking confused.

‘It’s Friday,’ Ronan says. ‘We’re currently skipping the last two classes.’

‘Oh, right,’ Noah says. ‘Cool. We’ll make ice cream and then invite Adam and Gansey and Blue over and do something. I don’t know, what should we do?’

‘Eat the ice cream…’ Ronan deadpans, pushing the kart towards the fridge section. He picks up two heavy creams and puts them in the kart.

‘Well, obviously,’ Noah says. ‘And the lollipops. But should we watch a movie or what? Play strip poker?’

‘I’m not playing strip poker with you,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes.

‘Oh, you’d play strip poker with _me_ ,’ Noah says. ‘The problem is Adam. Pretty hard hiding your hard-on when you’re not wearing pants, huh?’

‘I’m going to kill you,’ Ronan states slowly. ‘In the most painful way possible.’

‘You wouldn’t _do_ that,’ Noah says cheerily.

‘Fuck you, I would,’ Ronan says, shoving Noah’s shoulder. ‘And who are you even to talk anyway? You never shut up about how you want Gansey to pull your hair.’

‘I do want him to,’ Noah says. ‘So, no strip poker?’

‘No strip poker,’ Ronan says. ‘What ice cream do you want to make?’

‘Hmm…’ Noah hesitates, wondering. ‘Mint?’

Ronan rolls his eyes and doesn’t bother saying anything to that. ‘We’ll make two,’ he says instead. ‘Mint and vanilla.’

‘If that’s an euphemism or something I will have you _know_ that I am _not_ vanilla,’ Noah says good-naturedly, punching Ronan’s shoulder.

‘Trust me,’ Ronan says. ‘I know.’

 

Noah, [16:45]

u should all come over @ ronan’s there’s ice cream and possibly strip poker or maybe just movies

 

Noah, [16:45]

(ronan says no strip poker btw … the loser)

 

Ronan, [16:46]

no fucking strip poker czerny

 

Adam, [16:47]

i’ll come after my shift ends!

 

Noah, [16:48]

nice !!!!!!!

 

Gansey, [16:49]

where were u in world hist? i’ll be there btw. what ice cream are we having?

 

Noah, [16:50]

mint just for u babe

 

Blue, [16:50]

am i witnessing someone calling dick trois BABE ?

 

‘You just called Gansey _babe_ ,’ Ronan says, looking up from his phone and over at his friend. ‘You’re not even trying to be subtle, are you?’

‘No,’ Noah says. ‘I am trying very hard to be _un_ -subtle.’

‘You’re succeeding,’ Ronan says.

‘Thanks,’ Noah says.

 

Noah, [16:53]

hey blue ur coming 2 right?

 

Blue, [16:54]

sure i’ll be there

 

Blue, [16:54]

not stripping tho

 

Ronan, [16:55]

dw abt that noah has his eyes on someone else anyway

 

‘I am going to break your arm,’ Noah says and Ronan starts laughing. ‘I’m helping you be unsubtle,’ he says.

‘You’re the worst wingman ever,’ Noah shoots back. ‘Which is the least surprising thing in the _world_ since your way of dealing with emotions is basically ignoring them until they hopefully go away.’

‘I’m getting there,’ Ronan says.

‘You’re so not,’ Noah says.

‘Fuck you, I know.’

Noah grins up at him, and then goes blank for a second, before his face settles into a more earnest expression. ‘You know,’ he says. ‘I do mean it when I say I think he likes you too.’

Ronan swallows and looks down. ‘Thanks,’ he says quietly. ‘Same with Gansey and you. I mean, I make fun of you a lot but he really does look at you like he’s into you.’

‘We’re useless,’ Noah says, smiling softly at Ronan.

‘Yeah,’ Ronan says quietly, then grinning up at Noah. ‘But at least I make a hard-core ice cream.’

‘You _do_ ,’ Noah says, smiling back at him. ‘It’s good enough to make people fall in love with you.’

‘The fact that I’m stunningly attractive wasn’t enough?’ Ronan jokes.

‘Really though,’ Noah says. ‘You’re fucking _hot_. I want your abs.’

‘That’s _gay_ ,’ Ronan laughs, hitting Noah with a wooden spoon.

‘Surprise,’ Noah deadpans. ‘Everyone is shocked.’

  
‘You never weighed in on the strip poker debate,’ Noah says after he’s let Gansey in.

Gansey flushes and looks down at his feet, tries to steady his breathing and looks back up at Noah.

‘I mean, it’s chill if you don’t want to,’ Noah says. ‘We’re probably not doing it anyway since nobody fucking wants to. I wouldn’t object though.’ He flat-out _winks_ at him, which does nothing to Gansey’s already red cheeks.

Gansey clears his throat and tries to look away from Noah but he has really nice eyes and also really nice lips and also—

‘Guys,’ Ronan says, smirking at them. ‘Do you need me to leave, or?’

‘Yes,’ Noah says as Gansey says ‘no.’

They look at each other, then over at Ronan, then back at each other again.

‘Whatever,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes. ‘I think Blue is here anyway.’ He gets up and goes to open the door where Blue is standing, bouncing at her feet. She’s wearing some weird kind of neon-green net dress and half her hair is in a bun and the other half is hanging down in tiny braids. Her lips are bright red and she’s grinning up at Ronan. ‘Hi fucko,’ she says, reaching up to punch his shoulder.

‘Hello maggot,’ Ronan replies, reaching out to mess up her hair.

She glares up at him, then squeezes past and walks into the kitchen to say hi to Noah and Gansey.

‘Hey fuckers,’ she says.

‘Hi Blue,’ Noah says, turning around to pull her into a hug. ‘How are you?’

‘All right, thanks,’ she says, hugging him back. ‘I’m excited about ice cream. How are you?’

‘I’m great,’ Noah says. ‘Ronan and I skipped the last two classes and went to get lollipops. You want one?’

‘No thanks,’ Blue smiles.

‘Well, I do,’ Noah says, spinning around and picking up the bag. He unwraps it and gracefully swivels his tongue around it before sticking it into his mouth.

Ronan is staring at him – not so much because of the way he’s sucking on it but because of the way he’s _keeping his eyes locked on Gansey’s_. He looks over at Blue, who looks like she’s ready to ascend.

‘This is gross,’ Ronan mouths at her and Blue rolls her eyes back at him. ‘I know,’ she mouths back.

Gansey clears his throat and looks over at Ronan. ‘When would Adam get here?’ he asks and Ronan admires the way he at least _tries_ to carry on as if nothing is going on, ignoring his red cheeks. Ronan decides to not make any comment about it because contrary to popular belief he’s not _always_ an asshole.

‘I think his shift ends at seven,’ he says instead.

 

* * *

 

‘Ronan,’ Gansey says, dropping down beside him. ‘Can I talk to you about something?’

‘Of course,’ Ronan says, smiling at Gansey. ‘What’s up?’

‘I think I–’ he begins, closing his eyes slowly and steadying his breathing. He opens them again and looks at Ronan. ‘I think I like Noah.’ His voice is quiet.

Ronan is taken aback for a second, surprised by this turn of events.

‘Do you think—maybe—I mean—I don’t know,’ Gansey breathes out, dropping his head back against the wall. ‘I’m not very experienced with these kinds of things…’

Gansey is, for some unfathomable reason, unsure as to whether his feelings are reciprocated. Noah hasn’t shut up about his crush on Gansey since the first time he saw him and Gansey isn’t sure whether _Noah likes him back_. This is so ridiculous Ronan sort of wants to laugh.

He forces himself not to though, obviously. Apparently, for some reason, Gansey is oblivious to someone being (very openly, by the way) into him, which is odd because Gansey is _not_ normally oblivious—about everything else, he always knows what’s going on.

Ronan supposes it’s different when it’s about someone expressing positive emotions towards you.

‘Are you asking if I think you have a chance?’ he says instead, trying to keep all venom out of his voice.

Gansey looks up at him and nods slowly. ‘I mean,’ he says before Ronan has a chance to say anything. ‘Sometimes it’s like he’s kind of flirting? But then I don’t know, really, because he’s like that with everyone; so I know it doesn’t really mean anything… I don’t know. I think he’s really cute.’

Ronan has to squeeze his hand so hard in order to not roll his eyes right then and there. _He was literally staring right at you as he ate a lollipop in the filthiest way possible, please get over yourself._

‘I’m not really–’ Ronan says, waving his hand in front of him, ‘– _experienced_ either,’ he continues, biting his lip and looking over at Gansey. ‘But I’m pretty sure that if you asked Noah out he would say yes.’

‘Do you think so?’ Gansey asks and the way his face lights up shows Ronan what it is Noah sees in him.

‘I think so,’ Ronan smiles. ‘And not just as in an “I’ll say yes because I’m too polite to say no” way, but in an “I really, really want to go out with you and I have been waiting for you to ask me” way.’

Gansey breathes out slowly and looks up at Ronan, a small smile on his lips. ‘Thank you,’ he says. ‘I don’t know if I can, like, do it, but–’ he swallows hard. ‘Maybe?’

‘Gansey,’ Ronan says. ‘You survived a near death thing. You can ask Noah out, I believe in you.’

‘That’s _different_ ,’ Gansey says. ‘The wasps didn’t have nice eyes.’

‘Real talk,’ Ronan says. ‘Noah is possibly the only person who’s ever let you go on for _hours_ about your weird king shit and on top of that he actually looks to _like_ it. Just ask him out.’

Gansey smiles at him, then settles back in the bed. ‘Thank you,’ he says.

 

* * *

 

Noah, [15:39]

I’M GOING OUT W/ GANSEY I’M GOING OUT W/ GANSEY I’M GOING OUT W/ GANSEY

 

Ronan grins and fondly rolls his eyes as he presses, “accept FaceTime call” and smiles brighter as he sees Noah smiling on the screen.

‘Gansey asked me out,’ he screams, and then quieter: ‘I’m going out with Gansey!’

‘Nice,’ Ronan says, smiling at his friend.

‘I’m going out with _Gansey_ ,’ he says again and he looks both baffled and overjoyed. He screams for a full minute then and Ronan just stares at him.

‘He asked me out after Chem,’ he says then, voice back to normal. ‘It was so cute; he was so cute about it? He was blushing and all stuttering and like “I was wondering if maybe, possibly, you’d, like–” and then he inhaled slowly and he apologised and said he was _kind of nervous_ and then he continued and asked if maybe I’d possibly go out with him.’

‘And you started screaming?’ Ronan suggests but his voice is so full of affection it doesn’t come off as mean or annoyed.

‘Pretty much, yeah,’ Noah grins. ‘No, I said something ridiculous because I was so excited, God, I hate myself. I was like “yes, oh my God, I’d love that, thank you so much, I’ve been hoping you’d ask, I didn’t think you liked me” because apparently I was destined to live a life of self-humiliation.’

‘I’m really happy for you,’ Ronan smiles. ‘Now, I can finally live in peace again and I will not have to listen to you talk endlessly about _Gansey’s perfect hair_ and _Gansey’s this_ and _so I was talking to Gansey_ and _I want Gansey to raw me_.’

‘I have _never_ –’ Noah begins, then pauses. ‘OK, actually…’

‘Yes,’ Ronan says, laughing at his phone screen. ‘Actually.’

‘I’m going out with _Gansey_ ,’ he says again, giddy with excitement. ‘What should I wear?’

‘Oh God,’ Ronan says. ‘I thought I was free but I was wrong?’

‘You were wrong,’ Noah agrees.

‘Wear a skirt for easy access when you’re going to ride his dick.’

‘I am hanging up now,’ Noah says. ‘That was too much, Ronan. I hate you.’

‘Don’t pretend you weren’t _literally_ just thinking something like that,’ Ronan says and smirks at his phone screen.

‘I _wasn’t_ ,’ Noah says. ‘I do look really good in skirts though, so I might…’

‘Pair the black skater skirt with your mint crop top and wear chucks or something. And either black or glitter eyeliner. You’ll blow him away.’

‘Thank you,’ Noah says, smiling. ‘I’m going out with _Gansey_.’ His voice is full of disbelief and Ronan smiles at him.

 

* * *

 

Noah, [00:22]

i know its late but r u up can i call ??

 

Ronan, [00:23]

hit me up

 

‘Hey,’ Ronan says as Noah’s face appears on his screen. He’s smiling and he looks so _happy_ —eyes shining. ‘Hi,’ he grins. ‘You weren’t asleep?’

‘It’s _Saturday_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘I wasn’t asleep.’

‘OK,’ Noah says, nodding. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks very happy.

‘How was your date?’ Ronan asks and Noah snaps back and grins at Ronan. Apparently this was the cue he’d been waiting for.

‘It was so _good_ ,’ he says. ‘We went for dinner first; this really fancy place, which was super nice and then we went _skateboarding_.’ He pauses for a second and just smiles at Ronan. ‘He was so nervous and awkward and kind of a mess, really. He was really focused and tried so hard; it was adorable. And I got to hold his _hand_!’

Ronan smiles fondly at the screen as he listens to Noah continue telling about his night.

‘And then he fell and dragged me down with him and I _accidentally_ –’ he winks at Ronan, ‘– ended up sort of straddling him. Very awful, that. Um,’ he hesitates, and Ronan thinks that’s funny since he’s been all about sexual innuendos for _months_.

‘Then I asked if I could kiss him.’ His face lights up in a big grin again and Ronan can’t help smile back at him. ‘And he said yes?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,’ Noah says breathlessly. ‘He nodded kind of jerkily and then I, you know, kissed him. Like, all chaste at first and then I pulled away and whispered if it was OK and he smiled up at me and said that it was more than OK. So I kissed him again.’ He can’t stop smiling at Ronan and Ronan smiles back at him. ‘That sounds—really good,’ he says, smiling at his phone.

‘It was,’ Noah agrees, smiling back. ‘And I wore what you told me to and Gansey said I looked cute.’

‘That’s gay,’ Ronan laughs.

‘I mean…’ Noah says. ‘Yeah.’

‘Did you ask him if he wanted to go out again?’ Ronan asks, running his hand over his head.

‘He did,’ Noah says. ‘He said it had been “really, really nice” – his words – and asked if I could be talked into doing it again.’

‘And you said yes because you are _so gone_ ,’ Ronan laughs. ‘So, so gone.’

‘I’m not–’ Noah begins, then pauses and runs his fingers over his lips. ‘I’m kind of gone. And I said yes, I’d love to. I think we’re going to the art gallery.’

‘Oh my God,’ Ronan says. ‘The _art gallery_. Do you know what that is? That’s gay.’

‘I _know_ ,’ Noah grins. ‘I’ll hold his hand and point out all my favourite pieces and use awful pick-up lines.’

‘I know,’ Ronan says. ‘You’ll be all like “I’d kiss you but the sign says don’t touch the masterpieces” or something like that.’

‘Yes,’ Noah says, his face scrunched up in laughter. ‘I’m so happy,’ he says then, face softened but his mouth still quirked up in a smile. ‘So, so happy.’

‘Me too,’ Ronan says. ‘You two are good.’

‘Thank you,’ Noah says sincerely, smiling at Ronan. ‘I do think so too.’

‘God, shut up,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes. ‘Go to sleep, fuckhead.’

‘I will,’ Noah says quietly. ‘You too. Thanks for—you know. Existing and being my friend and putting up with all my shit.’

A second pauses, then Ronan says, ‘there’s no putting up.’

Noah scrunches his eyebrows in confusion.

‘I’m not—I’m not _putting up_ with you. Not Gansey either. You two mean the fucking world and I hope you know I’d both die and kill for you. There’s no putting up.’

‘That’s–’ Noah says, swallowing hard. Impossibly, his smile grows bigger. ‘I love you,’ he says.

‘I love you too,’ Ronan says and he doesn’t remember the last time he told someone that. He thinks it was either to Matthew or his mom. ‘I’m glad things went well with Gansey.’

‘Me too,’ Noah says quietly. ‘Me too.’ He doesn’t hang up then but he looks to be thinking so Ronan doesn’t either.

‘You know,’ Noah says then. ‘I would, too. Kill, you know? And die. For you. You’re really– I’m glad to know you.’

‘This is getting out of hand,’ Ronan laughs shakily. ‘We need to hang up, this is too gay.’

Noah smiles brightly at him. ‘Goodnight, Ronan.’

‘Goodnight, Noah.’

 

* * *

 

Noah, [12:15]

good morning pal !

 

Ronan, [12:15]

it’s noon ?

 

Noah, [12:16]

it’s also sunday

 

Noah, [12:16]

how was church?

 

Ronan, [12:17]

it was ok

 

Noah, [12:17]

nice !!!!!!

 

Noah, [12:18]

do u wanna hang out? my sisters r gonna have some kinda make-up & hair salon u should come over

 

Ronan, [12:19]

i don’t have any hair

 

Noah, [12:19]

but u do have very incredible cheekbones

 

Ronan, [12:19]

i’ll be there

 

Ronan pulls the BMW up by the Czerny household and he can hear the sound of pop music blasting inside. He grins and pushes the door open and gets out.

He doesn’t bother sending a text telling Noah that he’s there but instead just walks up and nods on the door.

It’s Noah’s youngest sister that opens the door.

‘ _Ro_ nan,’ she grins, clapping her hands together. ‘Are you here to get your make-up done?’

‘I am indeed,’ Ronan says, nodding and smiling down at her. ‘Noah told me I could come.’

‘Mariah is curling Noah’s hair right now,’ she says. ‘He’s going to look really cute. Come in.’

Ronan follows her inside and back up in the sisters’ shared room where Noah is sitting on a puff, Mariah standing behind him with a curling iron in her right hand. She looks up at the intrusion and smiles at Ronan. ‘Hi,’ he says. ‘Welcome to Salon Beauty.’

‘Thank you,’ Ronan says, dumping down on their bed. ‘Did Noah tell you where he was last night?’

‘He _did_ ,’ the smallest girl giggles, enthusiastically clapping her hands. ‘He was freaking out. He sucks.’

‘I _don’t_ ,’ Noah says and Ronan can hear the smile in his voice. ‘Anyway, whatever, _you_ weren’t the one who went out with a cute boy, so who’s the real winner here?’

‘I don’t even like boys,’ she says. ‘They have _lice_.’ She turns around and looks at Ronan with wide eyes. ‘Except you,’ she says. ‘‘Cause you don’t have any hair so I don’t know where they’d be. Also, I guess you’re OK…’

‘Why, thank you,’ Ronan says, smirking at her. ‘I think you’re just about OK too.’

She grins up at him. ‘Did you hear that, Noah?’ she asks. ‘Ronan thinks I’m OK. Meanwhile, I’ve only ever heard him call you a _fucko_ and a _loser_ and say that you _suck_.’

‘Oh, he does,’ Ronan says. ‘He _sucks_.’ Only Noah picks up on what Ronan is implying and he laughs. ‘Not the only one in this room,’ he says, smirking at Ronan.

Ronan Lynch does no such thing as _blush_.

  
‘To be honest,’ Noah says later when they’re in his room alone, his sisters outside in the garden shooting each other with NERF guns.

Ronan looks over at him for a second, then lets his head drop back on the pillow again. ‘To be honest _what_?’ he asks, yawning.

‘To be honest aren’t you supposed to be, like, _punk_ or whatever? Tough? Fearless?’

‘What’s your point, Czerny…?’ Ronan says lazily, rolling over to prop his head up on his arm. ‘You want me to beat you up or something?’

‘Nah,’ Noah laughs. ‘Just think it’s weird you’re so scared of asking Adam out then. Since you’re supposed to be so hard-core and unafraid.’

‘Shut up,’ Ronan says, looking down.

‘No, I mean it,’ Noah says. ‘I was freaking out about Gansey and you said he liked me too. Trust me when I say Adam likes you too, then?’

Ronan doesn’t say anything for a long moment, just lies back down and closes his eyes, breathes slowly. ‘It’s different,’ Ronan says. ‘You and Gansey–’

Noah waits for a minute for some kind of continuation but when he doesn’t get any, he asks, ‘how is it different?’

Ronan exhales slowly, tries to plaster on a smile. ‘I’ve liked Adam since I was eight years old,’ he says. ‘I think. If he liked me too, he’s had plenty of time to say something about it.’ He lets out a breath of laughter but it twinges with self-deprecation and hollow hopelessness.

‘Maybe he’s scared too,’ Noah says quietly. ‘I mean, you saw me. I pretty clearly liked Gansey.’ He laughs for a second, then carries on, ‘but I didn’t—I didn’t ask him out, because I thought he didn’t like me. Maybe it’s not as different as you think…’

‘I just–’ Ronan says, closing his eyes because this is something he can’t say while facing anyone. ‘If I start hoping, and he doesn’t, and– that’s going to hurt way fucking more than just never saying anything.’

‘But what if he does…?’

‘But what if doesn’t?’

 

* * *

 

‘I want to say thank you,’ Gansey says. ‘For telling me to do it – ask Noah out. I probably wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t said anything.’

‘No problem, man,’ Ronan says. ‘You went out again?’

‘Yeah,’ Gansey says, mind somewhere else, lost in thoughts. ‘We did…’

‘Well, how _was_ it?’ Ronan laughs.

‘Oh,’ Gansey says, snapping back into reality. He looks at his friend and he can’t hide the smile. ‘We went to the museum. He really liked the impressionists. I didn’t really—you know, this sounds ridiculous and cliché but I did actually–’ Gansey is blushing and keeps looking down and Ronan has to fight hard not to grin at him. Instead, he just smiles – friendly, reassuringly.

‘God, I really, really like him,’ Gansey says and then he touches his lips in disbelief, as if he can’t believe he actually let those words fall.

‘You were busy staring at him instead of the paintings?’ Ronan prompts, smiling when Gansey’s cheeks flush and he runs a hand through his hair. ‘Kind of…?’ he hesitates, looking up at Ronan with wide eyes.

‘That’s probably the gayest thing I’ve ever heard,’ Ronan says, smirking. ‘You two are fucking disgusting.’

Gansey looks up at him, smiling softly. ‘That’s—thank you,’ he settles on. ‘Again.’

 

* * *

 

Ronan is sitting at his desk when he looks up and sees Noah and Gansey walking in holding hands. Noah is _beaming_.

Noah stirs them towards Ronan’s desk, pushes Gansey down on a chair and sits down in his lap. ‘Ronan,’ he says solemnly. ‘Guess who has a _boyfriend_.’

‘Oh, hmm…’ Ronan says, tapping his finger against his temple in an _I wonder_ gesture. ‘I don’t know? Cheng?’

‘ _Me_ ,’ Noah says excitedly. ‘I mean, Gansey too. I asked if he wanted to be my _boyfriend_ ,’ he stage-whispers. ‘And he said _yes_.’

‘Congratulations,’ Ronan says. ‘Nobody saw that coming, gasp!’

Noah is too giddy to glare at him. ‘Fuck you,’ he says cheerily and looks back down at Gansey. He leans down and kisses him softly and Ronan pretends to find it disgusting even though they really are cute.

When Noah pulls away, Gansey looks over at Ronan and Ronan doesn’t think he’s ever seen him look this happy—out-of-his-mind _happy_. ‘Noah asked if I wanted to be his boyfriend,’ he says and his voice is quiet and so full of disbelief Ronan can’t believe he’s really hearing this.

‘So he told me,’ Ronan says, smiling at him. ‘And you said yes.’

‘Of course I said yes,’ Gansey blurts, turning red.

‘Aw, that’s cute,’ Noah says, running his hand through Gansey’s hair and smiling down at him. Gansey’s cheeks somehow manage to turn an even darker shade of red which Ronan honest-to-God finds very impressive.

‘Shut up,’ Gansey mutters, looking down. ‘At least half of the student body wants to date you…’

‘I mean, _obviously_ ,’ Noah says. ‘Who wouldn’t want me to ride them?’

‘I, actually, personally–’ Ronan begins, smirking at his friends.

Noah stares him down. ‘Thought you didn’t _lie_ ,’ he says, smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

‘I don’t,’ Ronan says defiantly.

‘Well, whatever,’ Noah says. ‘It’s not happening anyway since I have a _boyfriend_.’ He looks fondly down at Gansey and kisses his forehead and Gansey’s expression softens and melts into something love-struck, and Ronan wants to punch a wall.

 

* * *

 

Adam goes into the classroom and goes to the desk he usually sits at and is met by the sight of another boy. He’s seen him around school a couple of times but they’ve never interacted. He’s good-looking; tall, with dark skin and even darker curls. His eyes are blue and his right eyebrow is pierced.

He’s leaning against the desk, hands gripping the edge, and smiling up at Adam.

‘Eh,’ Adam says, trying very hard to hide his accent. ‘What are you doing at my desk?’

‘I know you,’ the boy says. ‘You fixed my car.’

Adam wants to jump out the window because he _hates_ having Aglionby people know what he really is—that he’s poor trailer trash, that he doesn’t _belong_ —but he tries to play it cool and raises an eyebrow and says, ‘I don’t know?’

‘Yeah,’ the guy says. ‘About a week ago. Audi A6. Fucked up alternator or something.’

Then Adam remembers – he remembers how he’d been suffering fixing it because it was _amazing_ and he wished he could own a thing like that. ‘Why would you know me?’ he asks instead. ‘I never speak to customers…’

The bell rings and the guy’s smile widens and he says, ‘I never forget a pretty face.’ Then he gets up and leaves and Adam is left with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. He forces himself to close his mouth and dumps down on his chair, turning his attention to the blackboard and the teacher who just walked in.

 

Adam, [13:15]

do u know anything abt this guy. tall, blue eyes, curly hair, rly attractive. like, rly.

 

Adam, [13:16]

the teacher calls him lightwood?

 

Adam, [13:20]

he was at my desk & said i fixed his car …

 

Adam, [13:22]

he’s also rly smart, i think. he participates a lot.

 

Adam, [13:25]

i kind of like the sound of his voice

 

Adam, [13:35]

ronan????? r u there??? r u ok???

 

Adam, [14:10]

srsly r u ok?

 

Ronan, [14:11]

i’m here

 

Adam, [14:11]

well what happened? u just disappeared

 

Ronan, [14:12]

teacher told me to put my phone away

 

* * *

 

‘So how is it?’ Ronan asks, lazily turning his head and looking over at Noah. They’re lying on his bedroom floor, staring at the ceiling.

‘How’s what?’ Noah asks, looking over at him.

‘Dating _Gansey_ ,’ Ronan elaborates as if that was obvious. ‘Being his _boyfriend_. _Having_ a boyfriend…’

‘It’s–’ Noah begins and then he has to bite his lip from smiling too wide. ‘He’s so fucking _cute_ ,’ he says then, looking back up at the ceiling.

‘Is he a good kisser?’ Ronan says. ‘Doesn’t really look it…’ He breathes out a laugh and grins at his friend.

‘Was kind of clumsy in the beginning,’ Noah says, smiling. ‘But that was actually just cute, really. He said he was really nervous and kind of scared of fucking everything up.’

‘Does it even matter what he does?’ Ronan muses. ‘I mean, are you just going to find everything fucking endearing or what?’

Noah smacks his shoulder and laughs into the room. ‘So what if I am?’ he says. ‘He’s cute and we’re _dating_.’

‘Yeah, so I’ve heard,’ Ronan nods. ‘About four billion times, approximately.’

None of them say anything for a while; they just lie on the floor staring at the ceiling, both with smiles playing at their lips. Once again, Ronan thinks about how glad for Noah he is. Him and Gansey and Blue and obviously Adam—thank God.

‘I want to blow him in his _car_ ,’ Noah says then abruptly and Ronan splutters and turns his head so quickly he’s scared he’s getting whiplash. ‘I’ll do it, I’ll blow his _mind_.’

‘Holy shit…’ Ronan says, staring at Noah in wonder.

‘What?’ Noah says. ‘You thought I was done thinking about sex after I literally started dating him?’

‘No,’ Ronan says. ‘Just thought you were done talking about it.’

‘Oh,’ Noah says and hums for a second. ‘Well, anyway. I’m not.’

‘Figured,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes and turning his head again. A moment passes and then, ‘have you–?’ Ronan asks quietly, not looking over at Noah. ‘Done anything–?’

‘No,’ Noah says, looking over at him and smiling softly. ‘Do you ever think about it?’

‘You and Gansey?’ Ronan asks, eyes widening.

‘ _No_ ,’ Noah laughs, pushing him by his upper arm. ‘I mean, like, sex. Blowing someone. Handjobs, I don’t know. What it’d be like.’

Ronan swallows hard. ‘I guess…’ he says, turning his head and looking over at his friend. ‘I always—always feel really bad about it though, so—you know, I don’t really–’ he closes his mouth and looks back up at the ceiling. ‘Do you?’

‘Yeah,’ Noah says.

‘You think about Gansey?’

‘Hmm, yeah,’ Noah hesitates. ‘I mean—yeah. I keep thinking about how he looked in the skatepark when I asked if I could kiss him. And then when I actually kissed him.’

‘That’s–’ Ronan says, looking over at Noah and swallowing. ‘Do you want to fuck him?’

‘Mmm,’ Noah hums. ‘I mean, I don’t actually want to go all the way yet but at some point, yeah, I think so?’

Ronan hums and nods slowly, looking back over at Noah—Noah doesn’t look affected, he isn’t blushing or flustered about this, which Ronan think he’d be if he’d just said that. But then, Noah and him are very different in some ways – they’re very alike in a lot of ways, but on some points Noah is much more _relaxed_ —more content and comfortable and cool with just—who he is, really. Open and inviting and all— _Noah_.

‘Or for him to fuck me,’ he says, maybe more to himself than Ronan. ‘I think I’d like that too. Have you thought about that?’ he looks over at Ronan, wide eyes.

Ronan swallows hard and blinks. Then he nods, awkwardly and jerkily. ‘I think so…’ he whispers.

‘You don’t have to–’ Noah says, ‘we don’t have to talk about this.’

‘No, it’s–’ Ronan says, nodding slowly. ‘Yeah, I’ve thought about it.’

‘So what do you think?’ Noah grins.

‘I think, I would–’ Ronan steadies his breathing. ‘The second thing?’

‘Me too,’ Noah hums. ‘I want to ride him, I think. I’ll cuff him to his bed and tell him he looks pretty.’

Ronan flushes red and looks away. ‘How are you so–’ he begins to asks, then pauses to clear his throat. ‘So, like—it doesn’t bother you?’

‘Wanting to suck Gansey’s cock?’ Noah asks, eyes glinting. ‘Not being straight?’

‘No, I mean–’ Ronan says. ‘That too, but—sex. Like, you don’t feel—bad about it?’

‘Not really,’ Noah says. ‘Seriously, we don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.’

Ronan shakes his head. ‘No, I just—I do think about it, sometimes. Sometimes it’s all I _can_ think about, but I always feel—dirty, or something.’

‘That Catholic guilt of yours,’ Noah smiles, taking Ronan’s hand and squeezing it. ‘I don’t know,’ he says quietly. ‘I’ve never, really—I know it’s kind of a huge taboo everywhere, but I’ve never felt that?’

Ronan looks at him and swallows, nods for him to carry on.

‘I don’t know, really,’ Noah says. ‘I think I just don’t really give a fuck about anything.’

‘I mean,’ Ronan says. ‘I don’t really either.’ He laughs dryly and bites his lip. ‘But yeah… I think–’ he pauses and steadies his breathing, closes his eyes. ‘I think maybe some of it is because I always—Adam,’ he says.

Noah squeezes his hand and smiles over at him again. ‘Speaking of,’ he says. ‘I still think he likes you.’

Ronan rolls his eyes and looks away. ‘You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re tired of me being annoying about it.’

‘I mean,’ Noah says. ‘Not really. Ronan, bro, you’re all about honesty and you’d never lie and I can’t say I wouldn’t but I wouldn’t lie about this. He looks at you like—fuck, I don’t even know, to be honest. Not just like he wants to fuck you, even though that too, but like—like you’re the fucking sun, man.’

Ronan punches Noah’s shoulder and looks down, tries not to turn red at—all _that_. The possibility of Adam liking him back—he’s never even let himself imagine that. He’s come to terms with him liking Adam and he’s come to terms with how it’d never be reciprocated, so it seemed pointless and too masochistic even for him to wonder if Adam could—like someone like Ronan, someone angry and reckless and with edges so sharp you get _cut_ —impossible.

Noah is somehow making him reconsider, making him think about all kinds of small things and with this new lens of _maybe_ they all take on different meanings – times where Adam has run his fingers through Ronan’s hair, where he’s looked at him maybe a second too long, that time he kissed his cheek under the mistletoe—and maybe, maybe he really _does_ , maybe he really—

Maybe they aren’t as different from Noah and Gansey as he thought.

 

* * *

 

Adam is sitting on the bleachers with his homework. He was watching Ronan practice tennis but it’s over and he went to the locker rooms but Adam stayed and is just kind of sitting there.

The guy who approached him about his car a couple of weeks ago walks over and sits down next to him. ‘Hey pretty face,’ he says and Adam blinks up at him. ‘Are you aware Tad is checking you out from over there? Don’t look now.’

Adam blinks up at him again. He doesn’t know what’s going on and wonders for a second if this is part of some strange, elaborate prank that’s going to end with Adam as the punch line. ‘No,’ he says, because he doesn’t know what else to say. The guy looks to be just out of gym, still wearing the uniform.

‘Well, he is,’ the guy laughs. ‘Not that he’s to blame.’ He smiles at Adam and Adam doesn’t know what to do with himself. He doesn’t get why—this _attractive_ guy is talking to him.

‘I never introduced myself properly,’ he says then, still smiling at Adam. ‘I’m Ash Lightwood. Just call me Ash.’ He reaches out his hand and Adam takes it dazedly and shakes.

‘I’m Adam,’ he says.

‘Adam,’ Ash says, letting the syllables roll easily off his tongue. ‘I like the sound of that.’

‘It’s nothing—it’s just a name,’ Adam says, looking down.

They talk for a while and Adam finds that the conversation flows really easily. They both laugh a lot and at some point Ash holds up the football he’s holding and asks if Adam plays. They go down on the field and play just the two of them. Adam thinks for a second how this is incredible and _different_ and how Ronan is the only one who’s ever made him laugh like this.

Adam gets his bag and things and they head to the locker room for Ash to shower and they talk all the while. He talks about Ronan – how he was at the bleachers because he’d been watching him practice – about teachers, and school, and life in general. Ash tells about his little brother and the latest football match.

Adam is sitting on the bench and Ash comes out of the shower with no shirt and wet hair dripping down his chest and Adam’s breath catches because—OK, he’s _hot_.

‘So, you and Lynch. How long have you been…?’ Ash asks, trailing off and bending over to dry his hair.

‘Oh, we’re not–’ Adam says hurriedly, feeling his cheeks turn slightly red. ‘We’re not—he’s my best friend. Just friends. We’re not dating, we’re just—friends, yes.’

Ash laughs relieved and looks back up at Adam. ‘I thought you were dating,’ he says. ‘I was worried there.’

 _Well, fuck_ Adam thinks, smiling back at Ash.

‘This was nice,’ Ash says as they’re standing by his car in the parking lot. ‘Let’s do it again.’ He smiles and gets into his car and drives off and Adam is left standing there all giddy because it _was_ nice and he isn’t sure what to make of that.

  
Adam bikes to the Barns afterwards and sits with Ronan in the kitchen with textbooks out.

‘You know,’ Adam says, looking up from his homework. ‘You never did tell me if you knew that Lightwood kid?’

Ronan looks over at Adam and squints slightly. ‘Why?’ he asks, thinking about how he actually _does_ know the guy and how staff is constantly confusing the two – “for the _last_ time, my name is _Ronan Lynch_ not _Ash Lightwood_.”

Adam shrugs and says they’ve talked a little. ‘I was just wondering,’ he says and doesn’t elaborate on how many things he was wondering about – if Ronan knows him, if he’s talked to him, if he likes him, what his _opinion_ is…

‘Yeah, I know who he is,’ he says. ‘Staff has mixed us up a couple of times.’

Adam looks up at him and smiles. ‘I can see that,’ he says and Ronan doesn’t dwell on how Adam called Ash _really attractive_ and now is kind of comparing them. Kind of. In an implied way. Fuck.

  
It becomes a thing. After tennis practice ends, Ash shows up and they talk and laugh and play and then walk to Ash’s car until one day Ash doesn’t just get into his car.

He looks Adam in the eye, glances down at his lips, and looks back up. ‘So there’s this place that sells really good milkshakes, do you want to go?’

Adam grins at him, then nods, and climbs into his car.

Ash takes him to the milkshake place and things are still easy, still good, conversation still _flows_ and Adam really, really likes it. It’s—it’s _good_.

While they’re there, Ash asks him out for real. ‘So Adam,’ he says, smiling sincerely at him. ‘Do you have plans this Saturday?’

Adam smiles back at him, takes a sip of his milkshake, and says, ‘Don’t think so.’

‘Do you want any?’ Ash says, smirking at him.

‘Guess that depends,’ Adam says, smiling back at him. ‘What do you have in mind?’

Ash sighs and leans forward and places his arms on the table. ‘Adam,’ he says. ‘Do you want to go out with me?’

‘Hmm,’ Adam stalls, face blank. Then he smiles and says, ‘Yeah, Ash. I’d like that.’

Ash’s face breaks into a wide smile. ‘How do you feel about laser tag?’ he asks, still smiling.

‘I–’ Adam says. ‘I’ve never been.’

‘Well, _that_ ,’ Ash says. ‘We can’t have that.’

‘No,’ Adam says. ‘I don’t think we can.’

 

* * *

 

‘Remember how when we were kids we talked about driving recklessly around the town when–’ Adam says, biting his lip, ‘–your dad would finally let you drive the BMW?’

Ronan’s face lights up. ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I remember that.’ He already has his fingers wrapped around the keys and he looks at Adam with anticipation showing on his face. ‘Will you do me the honour?’ he asks, smirking and bowing.

Adam grins and jumps up, punches his shoulder as he walks past him. ‘Let’s go, loser.’

So that’s what they do: drive aimlessly around town, just the two of them, Ronan behind the wheel and Adam in the passenger seat.

There’s some music playing, but it’s low enough to not be irritating.

Ronan looks over at Adam, and suddenly the waves of the first dream crash over him, and his grip around the wheel tightens, and he sets his jaw and looks pointedly at the road.

Ronan with his fingers tangled in Adam’s hair, Adam in Ronan’s lap, Adam sucking hickeys into Ronan’s collarbone, Adam saying he wants to _blow him_ , Adam, Adam, Adam—

Ronan swallows hard and still keeps his focus out the window.

Adam is looking at Ronan looking out the window, his right hand around the stick and his left on the wheel. Adam swallows hard because he’s thought about— _this_ , when he’s been alone, at night, and—

He’s not going to go there. He’s not going down that road, he’s not—

He has a _date_ with a boy this Saturday—a _very attractive_ and very _nice_ boy at that, so he needs to stop thinking about what it’d be like if Ronan pulled the car over and they somehow made it to the backseat and Ronan with no shirt on and Adam’s _hands_ and maybe his mouth and—

Stop thinking about it doesn’t mean _elaborate_ , Adam. It means stop thinking about it. He turns his head and looks out the window, swallowing hard and trying to clear his thoughts.

Ronan sneaks a glance over at Adam and his throat catches, he’s really going to—he’s really going to ask him out, isn’t he? He’s really going to—

He can do this, he tells himself, repeats it like a mantra, a prayer, a litany, something holy, hoping it’ll convince him if he says it enough times. I can do this, I can do this, I can do this. And if he says no—it won’t be that bad, it’ll be really awkward forever, but they’ve—they’ve been best friends for _eight years_ , it won’t break everything, it can’t—he’ll tell him he’s sorry and to forget it and that he’ll get over it, it’s—

He clears his throat and looks back over at Adam. He’s really going to—

‘Ash asked me out,’ Adam says, looking over at Ronan.

It feels like his entire body breaks open and he just looks at Adam, doesn’t say anything.

‘And I said yes,’ Adam says quietly, looking up at Ronan with wide eyes and Ronan doesn’t know what that _means_ —it’s like he’s looking for his approval but that’s ridiculous and not—why would he be that?

‘That’s nice,’ Ronan says, cursing himself as he hears his voice crack. He plasters on a smile and hopes it doesn’t come off as completely fake even though he feels like his insides are shattered and he doesn’t really know what to do with himself. For a second, he wants to go racing. But Adam is with him so that’s off the table, and maybe that’s for the best anyway—

‘Yeah,’ Adam says and his voice sounds hollow in some weird way. ‘I think I like him?’ he says it like a question and Ronan doesn’t understand whether he’s searching for an answer and in that case why he’s asking _Ronan_.

‘That’s nice,’ Ronan repeats and he realizes how lame it sounds. ‘That’s good.’ He looks over at Adam and smiles at him, then turns his head and looks back on the road.

 

Ronan, [19:15]

adam has a date w/ ash

 

Ronan, [19:16]

u made me HOPE

 

Noah, [19:16]

fuck

 

Noah, [19:17]

that sux i’m so sorry

 

Ronan, [19:19]

i was gonna ask him out …

 

Noah, [19:19]

:(

 

Noah, [19:20]

can i come over? do u wanna come here? we can get drunk or do movies or ice cream ?

 

Ronan, [19:21]

idk what i want

 

Ronan, [19:22]

i KNEW this

 

Ronan, [19:23]

i knew this i knew this i knew this all along i knew it was hopeless and bad and i shouldn’t ever have

 

Ronan, [19:25]

do u have any fucking vodka?

 

Noah, [19:25]

i’ll be there in ten

 

* * *

 

His date with Ash is tonight, and Adam is freaking out about what to wear. Freaking out in general, really, but he’s channelling it all into the clothing dilemma.

He calls Ronan to ask for advice – and to be grounded, to be reassured, for help to stop freaking out.

‘Ronan,’ he says quietly into the phone. ‘I don’t know what to wear.’

‘Adam,’ Ronan says and then hesitates for a second. ‘Where are you going?’ he asks.

‘Laser tag,’ Adam says and he nods even though he knows Ronan can’t see that.

‘OK,’ Ronan says and a montage of all the times Adam has ever looked incredibly good plays in his mind. Granted, Adam always looks good but this montage features the times he’s looked _extra_ much so. He has a Coca-Cola shirt that’s kind of a size too small and is right in all the right places and Ronan gulps down. ‘Jeans,’ he says. ‘Black tee. Unbuttoned shirt over.’

‘Thanks,’ Adam says and Ronan can hear his voice is shaking.

‘How are you?’ Ronan asks softly.

‘Um,’ Adam stalls, punching his thigh a couple of times. ‘Nervous?’ he says questioningly. ‘Scared. Freaking out.’

‘You can come over if you want,’ Ronan says. ‘I can check if you look too much of a loser or if it’s acceptable.’

Adam lets out a shaky breath of laughter. ‘Thanks,’ he says and Ronan smiles into his phone.

‘You know you’ll blow him away,’ Ronan says. ‘Anyone would be fucking lucky to have you.’

Adam smiles at the sound of Ronan’s voice and it stings for a second that Ronan says that when _he_ doesn’t—when Ronan apparently isn’t part of _anyone_. And of course Ronan isn’t anyone because he’s _Ronan_ , but still—

He swallows and closes his eyes. ‘Thank you,’ he says. ‘I’ll stop by shortly.’

  
He stops by shortly and Ronan wants to set himself on fire upon seeing him, because— _God_ , if this Ash guy doesn’t appreciate him he’s _out of his mind_.

‘How do I look?’ Adam asks, shrugging awkwardly and Ronan remembers to close his mouth. ‘Like a loser,’ he says. ‘He’ll swoon.’

Adam blushes faintly and punches Ronan’s shoulder. ‘Shut the fuck up,’ he grins.

  
Laser tag is fun, Adam finds. It’s like war, there are no friends – you have to be ruthless, it’s exhilarating and all about tactic and he gets _really_ into it.

He’s good, too. Ash is as well. Agile and suddenly gone only to reappear on top of a tower he climbed, charging at everyone from up there. Adam grins and runs to find cover from where he shoots someone else.

They almost collapse into each other laughing afterwards, both grinning so wide their faces hurt.

‘This was amazing,’ Ash says, smiling down at Adam.

‘It was,’ Adam says, smiling back and running his hand through his hair.

  
They’re sitting on the hood of Ash’s car, parked on top of a hill. The stars are shining above them and the weather is warm but not overwhelmingly so.

It’s quiet and they’re looking at each other without saying anything.

Adam leans over slowly, his breath catching in his throat. ‘Is this all right?’ he whispers softly, so quietly Ash can only hear it because of how few inches are between them.

‘Yes,’ he whispers back and leans in to close the gap between them.

Adam lets his eyes fall shut and just exists in the moment right there, doesn’t think about anything but the stars above them and the slick-sweet slide of Ash’s lips against his. He opens his mouth slightly; gently prods out his tongue and Ash’s lips are already parted, accepting it.

Adam’s heart is beating fast in his chest and it feels like his skin is on fire. He pulls away, grinning giddily at Ash, eyes still half-shut. ‘That was nice,’ he gets out, breathlessly. He tries to bite down the smile but he can’t.

‘I agree,’ Ash says, smiling too. ‘Want to try again?’

Adam doesn’t reply, just leans closer again and puts his mouth on his and kisses him softly.

Quickly, the kiss deepens and Adam is suddenly straddling Ash and has his hands tangled in his hair, Ash’s hands on Adam’s back pulling him closer.

 

* * *

 

‘How was it?’ Ronan asks, trying to make his voice sound enthusiastic and supportive even though he wants to eat lava rocks.

‘It was–’ Adam says, sighing softly and trying to bite down the smile tugging at the corner of his lip. ‘It was really nice, Ash was— _is_ really nice.’ He looks up at Ronan and he tries to ignore the quiet sting of _something_ – he can’t even really place what that something is. He thinks, he thought about what it would’ve been like if it’d been Ronan for a second while he kissed Ash, but—he’ll get over that.

He feels bad about it; thinking about someone _else_ when kissing someone, but he did—he did ignore it, sort of, and it was only a split second and then it was all Ash again, then it was all kissing _him_ and _kissing_ and tongue and lips and hot fire in his veins.

‘That’s really good,’ Ronan says, smiling at him. _You can punch a wall later_ , he thinks. _You can watch romcoms and cry with Noah later_ , he thinks. He thinks that and a second later backtracks: no, no, no, you’re not going to punch any walls, or watch romcoms, or cry, because Adam was never yours to kiss, he was never yours to hold, this is _good_ , he’s _happy_ , and he’s your best fucking friend and you will _be supportive_.

‘Yes,’ Adam says, hesitant. He still can’t—yes, this is good, he’s been given something good, he already had something good and he’s been given even _more_ , and it’s foreign and strange and he doesn’t really know what to do. He wasn’t made for gentle hands or kisses like fireworks; he was made to be _broken_. He was made to be thrown on the floor, pushed against a wall, for fists, and bruises, and too much blood. For mom to look at him with annoyance, _now you ruined the carpet too_ , for beatings and—‘Yes, it’s good,’ he says.

 

* * *

 

Adam, [17:26]

ash asked if i’d be his boyfriend

 

Ronan forces himself to bite down the feelings that well up; jealousy, mostly, a choir of _why not me?_ He thinks it’s just extra ironic, another level of divine mockery, that Aglionby staff constantly mix up him and Ash, almost as if—

 _Be supportive_ , he thinks. _This is amazing_.

 

Ronan, [17:29]

congrats omg!

 

Adam bites his lip and tries not to choke on whatever it is he’s feeling. Ash had asked him in a hushed whisper after pulling away from his lips; his eyes dazed and not wholly open. Adam had been giddy and nodded and said _yes_ and laughed against Ash’s mouth, closing the gap to kiss him again.

All the time, there’s this undercurrent of _but what if it was Ronan–?_

Adam is trying very hard to bite that down, extinguish it completely, because it will never be Ronan, and Ash is _nice_ , and he _likes_ Ash – he doesn’t _love_ him like he loves Ronan but he doesn’t love _anyone_ like he loves Ronan; it’s been too many years and too much—he doesn’t even know what it’s been. He knows he loves Ronan and he knows Ronan doesn’t love him back in that way. He knows Ash is nice, he knows he _likes_ Ash, and he’s pretty sure that Ash likes him back. And maybe it’s a kind of _using_ Ash because he—because sometimes for just a second he still sees Ronan when he closes his eyes, and that’s bad, obviously, but it’ll probably stop soon; being with Ash will help him get _over_ Ronan, it _will_.

 

Adam, [17:30]

thank u

 

* * *

 

‘It’s so _hot_ ,’ Noah complains, taking off his shirt and throwing it dramatically on the ground.

Gansey openly gapes at him and looks down when Noah winks at him.

‘It’s summer,’ Gansey says intelligently.

Ronan gasps dramatically. ‘What?’ he says in a mock-shocked voice. ‘It’s _summer_ , you say?’

‘Shut the fuck up,’ Adam says, rolling his eyes and lying back on the field. ‘You’re not funny.’

‘I’m not trying to be,’ Ronan says.

‘What I was really hinting at,’ Noah picks up again. ‘Was how I’d like _popsicles_. Because it’s hot.’

‘Oh,’ Ronan says. ‘Well, I’ll go get some then.’

Ronan comes back with four popsicles and hands them out. He kicks himself for having to look away when Adam unwraps his and puts it in his mouth. He looks over at Gansey who’s conveniently looking at him. They both swallow hard and look down at the ground.

Ronan reconsiders all of his life choices that led him to this point.

An hour later, Gansey’s fast asleep with his head in Noah’s lap. Noah is playing with his hair, braiding flowers into it, and Ronan isn’t sure when exactly Gansey drifted off. But he knows he is right now; eyes closed and face too relaxed for him to be conscious.

‘He’s _asleep_ ,’ he says. ‘In your _lap_.’

Noah hums softly and runs his fingers through a strand of hair. ‘Don’t wake him.’

 

* * *

 

During summer holidays, Ronan feels kind of deserted, lonely. Adam has jobs, and Ash too now, so there isn’t much time left in his schedule – though they make it work. Really, they’re not _much_ less together than usually, but it still feels different. Because Adam has a boyfriend now and Ronan—doesn’t.

Noah and Gansey, too. They still hang out as a group and Ronan still hangs out with them individually but he also tries to withdraw a little, let them be young and in love and alone. They have movie marathons at both the Barns and Monmouth and go for ice cream at two o’clock in the night just _because_.

He hangs out with Blue. He texted her, once; wasn’t really sure he was going to go through with it until he’d already sent the text and then she replied and one thing led to another and he drove to 300 Fox Way.

‘What’s up, fucko?’ she’d said, grinning up at him and letting him inside her house. She’d given him the tour and he’d been taken aback by the _strangeness_ of the place – and the strangeness of her aunts and cousins and mother. He learned that her fashion sense wasn’t just _her_ – it was her family just as much.

‘Can I tempt you with a drink?’ a woman with pale blonde hair asked.

‘I feel like I should warn you,’ Blue had said. ‘She always pours too much vodka.’

‘Well, in that case,’ Ronan had said, smirking at Blue. ‘I’d like a drink.’

‘I like that one,’ the woman said, grinning and going to pour the drinks. ‘Are you going to kiss him?’

Blue had groaned and rolled her eyes. ‘Probably not,’ she’d said. ‘I don’t think I’m exactly Ronan’s _type_. Anyway, Ronan this is Persephone. Persephone this is Ronan.’

‘Hello Ronan,’ she’s said. ‘What does she mean she isn’t your type? Blue is great.’

‘Hello Persephone,’ he’d said. ‘I’m gay.’

‘Oh,’ she’d hummed, holding out a glass for Ronan to take. ‘Well, good for you. So am I.’

‘Nice.’ He had clinked his glass against hers, smiling.

‘I am going to go knit,’ she’d said, possibly more to herself than them.

‘You knit?’ Ronan had asked, suddenly overwhelmed by memories about sitting beside his mom and learning to knit.

‘Naturally,’ Persephone had said. ‘You don’t? Blue doesn’t. I’m endlessly disappointed…’

‘I _do_ ,’ Ronan replied. ‘My mom taught me. Used to sit with her and knit. First thing I made was this really ugly scarf.’

‘I’ve an infinite supply of ugly scarves,’ Persephone had said, laughing in her dry voice.

‘I cannot believe I am third wheeling in my own _home_ ,’ Blue had said but she’d been smiling.

 

Blue, [14:12]

persephone is playing techno, orla is modelling bikinis, and mom is making some freaky weird drink save me

 

Ronan, [14:13]

didn’t think u needed a knight in shining armour

 

Blue, [14:13]

y do u think i’m txting u?

 

Ronan, [14:14]

wow brutal. i’m omw let’s go for ice cream?

 

Blue, [14:14]

tbh i’m craving fries can we go 4 that??

 

Ronan, [14:15]

sure see u in a sec

 

* * *

 

At the anniversary of Niall’s death, Ronan goes to the cemetery with his brothers. They bring flowers and Matthew sobs into Ronan’s shoulder, hugging him tight.

They go to the hospital afterwards.

Aurora is still—Ronan doesn’t want to name it because right now, even though it’s been a _year_ , right now it’s—he can pretend she’s getting better, can pretend maybe it’s all a bad dream, pretend—

Naming it makes it too real. And besides, he doesn’t even know what he’d name it if he had to anyway.

She’s sitting up on the bed and Matthew crawls up into it and sits beside her, slinging his arm around her shoulder and pulling her into a tight hug. ‘Hi mom,’ he says softly, his voice still wet. ‘How are you?’

Aurora doesn’t reply, but Matthew knew she wasn’t going to, so he keeps talking. He looks over at Ronan and Declan who are sitting at chairs, looking fondly at the image of mom and youngest son. Aurora didn’t do favourites but Matthew was always—

‘I’m doing good,’ Matthew says. ‘School is getting harder but Declan helps me with homework when I don’t understand it. Adam, too, sometimes. I miss dad,’ he says, switching topics easily. ‘And I miss you. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you. But it’s OK,’ he pauses, taking a slow, deep breath. ‘You’re still here. I kissed Brandon’s cheek the other day and he giggled at me and said I was cute. I think he’s really cute, too.’

‘You didn’t tell me that,’ Ronan says, looking over at his younger brother. He’s smiling. ‘When did you do this?’

Matthew flushes slightly and bites his lips, then grins up at Ronan. For a second, he reminds Ronan of Noah.

‘After school,’ Matthew says. ‘I don’t know, I just did it. He’s cute.’

Ronan smiles at his little brother. ‘Damn,’ he says. ‘Hard-core.’

‘It isn’t even,’ Matthew says. ‘You’re just a fool.’

‘I’m not,’ Ronan says. ‘I’m made of dreams and stars.’ There’s a soft echo in the back of his head as he remembers the way Adam described him years ago, in a note that wasn’t even meant for Ronan’s eyes. He wonders if Adam has ever written anything about him that Ronan doesn’t know about. Probably not.

‘That’s–’ Matthew says, looking Ronan up and down. ‘OK, I mean that’s true, but you’re also made of loserness.’

‘You talk with Adam too much,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes.

 

* * *

 

‘Tad invited you to his _Halloween party_ ,’ Noah screeches, holding up the invitation. ‘You didn’t _tell_?’

‘I wasn’t planning on going…’ Gansey says, looking confused up at his boyfriend. ‘Do you want to go?’

‘Of _course_ I want to go, love’ Noah grins. ‘We’re going. All of us,’ he adds, gesturing around to indicate he meant everyone in the room. ‘Are going.’

‘How–?’ Adam says. ‘Isn’t the invitation addressed to Gansey?’

‘Oh, it says it’s open,’ Noah says. ‘So he can bring whomever. And he’s bringing us all because I am _not_ missing out on this.’

‘You’re really enthusiastic about this,’ Ronan says. ‘Can’t say I’m surprised though.’

‘Of course I’m enthusiastic,’ Noah says, pulling Gansey in to quickly peck his cheek. ‘It’s a _costume party_!’

‘It’s—whatever,’ Ronan says.

‘This is going to be so good,’ Blue says, lost in a trail of thought.

‘Costumes are required,’ Gansey says quietly.

‘Don’t worry, babe’ Noah says. ‘I’ll fix you up nice and good.’

Gansey turns red and looks away.

‘A THOUGHT,’ Ronan says sharply, ‘you have these kinds of weirdly sexual conversations when I am not literally in the same room.’

Noah looks over at him and just smirks. He leans over and kisses Gansey, slow at first, then suddenly he’s sitting in his lap and his hands are in his hair and Ronan wants to kill them both.

‘Another _thought_ ,’ Ronan spits out. ‘You don’t make out in a _viciously sexual way_ when I am _literally in the same room_.’

Noah pulls away from Gansey’s lips slowly and turns his head and looks over at Ronan. His cheeks are flushed and his lips bitten but that’s _nothing_ compared to how Gansey looks – mussed-up hair, blown eyes, red, swollen lips, still staring at Noah.

‘Hmm,’ Noah says slowly. ‘I’ll think about it…’ Then he grins wickedly and turns his attention back to his boyfriend and kisses him again.

‘I’m _leaving_ ,’ Ronan says.

‘So am I,’ Blue says. ‘Can you give me a ride?’

‘Sure,’ Ronan says, looking down at her shortly. ‘Fox way? Or Nino’s?’

‘Fox way,’ Blue says. She sends a final look at Noah and Gansey and says, ‘bye, you massive, disgusting gays.’

‘Mmm,’ Noah hums into Gansey’s neck, waving his right hand somewhere in the general direction towards Blue.

‘I’m guessing you’re coming too,’ Ronan says, smiling at Adam. ‘Or are you enjoying the show?’

Just then, Gansey lets out something that sounds embarrassingly close to a whine.

‘All right, that’s it, we’ve got to fucking go,’ Ronan says, grabbing Adam and Blue’s wrists and pulling them with him outside.

  
They meet up at Gansey’s before going to the party. He lives in an old brick warehouse. On the east end it says Monmouth Manufacturing but when Ronan asked what it used to manufacture, Gansey admitted he didn’t know. Really, he’d bought the whole place because he liked the aesthetic of it.

The floor is cluttered with a cardboard model of Henrietta, which Gansey works on on nights when he can’t fall asleep.

Noah made good on his word of fixing Gansey up _nice and well_ because here he is, dressed as Peter Pan. Noah is Tinkerbelle – short, green dress, fairy wings, and glitter heels. Gansey can’t stop staring at him, and Blue says it’s gross.

Ronan didn’t care to bother with a proper costume but since it was _required_ and Noah wouldn’t shut up, he did do _something_. Not much, but still. Jeans, plaid, axe, and leather boots. ‘I’m a lumberjack,’ he smirks and Noah nods appreciatively. ‘You look _hot_ ,’ he grins.

‘So do you,’ Ronan laughs. ‘Very—yes.’

Gansey pulls Ronan to the side by the wrist and whispers, ‘how does he _do it_? How does he—look so _good_ in _everything_?

Ronan smirks at him and rolls his eyes. ‘You are so fucking gone for him,’ he says and Gansey doesn’t even deny it, just looks back at Noah with a hopeless look in his eyes. He bites his lip and looks back up at Ronan. ‘You know,’ he says. ‘You have a point…’

Blue looks absolutely terrifying; like some kind of Grim Reaper – gory and covered in blood. Gansey asks if it’s fake, and Blue stares him down.

Accidentally, Ronan and Adam match. Being terrified of being found out, Adam settled for the simplest thing he could find and simply went for jeans and a plaid shirt as well. So there they are, looking similar.

‘So… do you two handle each others’ wood a lot?’ Noah asks, grinning, and Ronan wants to smack him.

‘Piss off, Czerny,’ he says. Adam thinks it’s wild how Noah is covered in glitter, and wearing _heels,_ and still making gay jokes. He looks down and away.

  
They drive together to Tad’s place. Adam is taken aback at first by the house, the extravaganza of it, he thinks about how this is what he’ll never have, what he wishes he could have.

It’s fun. Loud music and dancing and couples making out in corners and on top of tables.

‘Do you know that girl?’ Blue asks, tugging at Ronan’s sleeve. She’s looking over at girl wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. Her face is covered in white foundation, her eyes lined with black eyeliner and red eye shadow, and her lips are coloured black as well.

‘Yes,’ Ronan says. ‘That’s Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way.’

‘I can see who she’s dressed as,’ Blue hisses and rolls her eyes. ‘But do you _know_ her?’

‘Oh,’ Ronan says, smirking. ‘Why?’

‘Do you know her or not fucko?’ Blue asks.

‘I do,’ Ronan says. ‘I do know her. It’s Jess. I play tennis with her sometimes.’

‘Right,’ Blue says. ‘Well, you should introduce me to Jess whom you play tennis with sometimes.’

‘ _Sargent_ ,’ Ronan says, grinning down at Blue. ‘Didn’t think you needed help for this kind of thing.’

‘Trust me,’ Blue says, sending him a look that could kill. ‘I don’t.’

Ronan takes her by the elbow and leads her towards Jess. ‘Hey,’ he smiles and she looks up and grins at him. ‘Hi Ronan,’ she says. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m good,’ he says, letting her pull him into a hug, which he then reciprocates. ‘Didn’t think I’d see you here.’

‘Oh, I know Tad,’ she says, nodding agreeably. ‘Or, sort of. Friend of a friend, all that. Hi,’ she adds, looking over at Blue. ‘I’m Jess!’

‘I’m Blue,’ Blue says, flirty smile playing on her lips. ‘I’m digging the costume. Do you want to dance?’

Jess smiles at her and tugs a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘Why, yes,’ she says, reaching her hand out. ‘I’d love to.’

After about an hour or so, they ditch. They all jump into the car and drive for gelato. Jess sits between Ronan and Blue, and Ronan is pretty sure Blue has her hand on her thigh throughout the entire night. Except, perhaps, when it’s tangled in her hair as they kiss; they pull apart and Blue’s lips are faintly black as well.

Noah and Gansey make out, too. Noah doesn’t bother remove the wings before straddling Gansey so they’re half over the table and the bottoms get covered in ice cream. Noah doesn’t seem to mind – or maybe he just doesn’t notice, busy as he is.

Ronan looks over at Adam and rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat.

Adam looks at him and returns the grin. He goes to scoop up another spoonful of ice cream and puts it in his mouth. He looks over at Noah and Gansey, rolls his eyes, and looks back at Ronan. ‘Well, this is–’ he says.

‘ _Gross_ ,’ Ronan supplies. ‘Disgusting. Revolting. Ghastly. Awful. Take your pick,’ he finishes, smirking at Adam.

Noah and Blue simultaneously pull away, turn their heads towards Ronan, and say, ‘you’re just jealous.’ Then they turn around again, and are back to kissing.

‘Listen,’ Ronan says. ‘I have ice cream, right here. I’ve got everything I want – what am I supposedly jealous of?’

Adam rolls his eyes at him, fondly, and puts his spoon in his mouth. There’s no ice cream on it; he sits with it for a couple of seconds, just staring at nothing, lost in thought.

‘Happy Halloween,’ he says then, pulling the spoon out his mouth and toying with it in his hands. ‘I’m glad we’re friends.’

Noah uncurls from where he’s sitting and dumps down between Adam and Gansey again, grinning widely with flushed cheeks. He slings an arm around Adam’s shoulder and pulls him into a half-hug. ‘Happy Halloween, my guy,’ he says, pressing his lips to the top of his head. ‘I fucking love you.’

Jess pulls away from Blue as well, laces their fingers together and squeezes her hand.

‘Happy Halloween,’ Blue says. ‘I guess none of you are _awful_ …’

‘Awful _ly amazing_ , we are, that’s right,’ Noah grins and points finger guns at Blue. ‘Bang, bang, you love me. Say it. Say you love me.’

‘Shut the fuck up, Noah,’ Ronan says, rolling his eyes again.

‘And _you_ , Ronan Lynch, love me _too_ ,’ is the reply he gets for that.

‘I love you,’ Gansey says quietly and Noah turns his head, his expression changing into something softer. ‘I love you too,’ he says back, voice low. He leans in and presses his lips to Gansey’s, chaste and close-mouthed. When he pulls away, Gansey’s eyes flutter open and a flush is spreading on his cheeks.

‘Get a goddamn room,’ Ronan spits out. ‘Some of us are trying to have a good time.’

‘Sounds like the title of a terrible porn,’ Jess says. ‘“Some of us are trying to have a good time,”’ she repeats in a low-pitched, deep voice. ‘A look into the going-ons in the – dramatic music please – _dun-ge-on_.’

They all crack up and fall over the table laughing, wiping tears away. ‘Do people actually have sex dungeons?’ Gansey asks. ‘Or is that a myth?’

‘What if there was this really exclusive and extravagant sex club slash dungeon somewhere,’ Blue begins. ‘But it’s only for, like, stuff from myths and legends. So the abominable snow monster is there, and Nessie, and maybe—I don’t know, a hippogriff? What the fuck.’

‘What the _fuck_ ,’ Ronan repeats.


	10. Seventeen years old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings for child abuse, homophobia, and discussions of sex.

‘I remember the first time I blew Gansey,’ Noah says absentmindedly with a hint of fondness. ‘Did I tell you I cried?’

‘You told me you cried,’ Ronan hums. ‘You told me it was in his bed and not the car, though that was still on your TO DO list. You told me he looked amazing, and hot, and the way he said your name made you believe in God. You’ve told me this fourteen times, I think. What’s the deal?’

‘Oh,’ Noah says. ‘I was just thinking about it again.’

‘ _God_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘I am so glad to be your friend and get to hear all these explicit details about your sex life.’

‘I understand that,’ Noah says. ‘I’d be too. I’m even luckier than you – I get to _live_ it and not only hear about it.’

Ronan rolls his eyes at him. ‘You also told me about that time when you then actually got to blow him in the pig. Also in explicit detail.’

‘That was _incredible_ ,’ Noah says. ‘I’ll have you know I give very good blowjobs. In case you’re ever feeling down.’

‘Are you offering to suck me off in case I have a bad day?’

‘I mean,’ Noah says. ‘It’s not like it’s going to make it worse.’

‘This is surreal,’ Ronan says. ‘And yet I’m not surprised.’

‘By the fact that I’m the blowjob master?’ Noah asks, grinning. ‘Neither am I, to be frank.’

‘ _No_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘By this whole conversation.’

‘Anyway, I am in love with Gansey,’ Noah says, looking up at Ronan with sincere eyes. ‘ _Very_ in love.’

‘Have you–’ Ronan says, and he knows he should probably roll his eyes and call Noah a loser—because that’s what they do, but he’s feeling sincere for some reason. ‘Have you told him that?’

‘No–’ Noah says, voice quiet. ‘Yes. I don’t know. I haven’t _said_ I’m in love with him because I don’t know—is that weird? I mean, we’re young and stuff. And what if he doesn’t say it back? Or if he feels like he _has_ to say it back, or–’ he pauses for a second and swallows. ‘I don’t know.’

‘I don’t think age has anything to say,’ Ronan says. ‘I mean, it’s not less— _real_ , just because you’re under thirty. And Gansey is fucking gone for you too, I don’t get what you’re scared of.’

‘I’m not— _scared_ ,’ Noah says and Ronan raises an eyebrow and looks at him.

‘OK, so maybe I’m kind of scared,’ Noah says. ‘I don’t know. Whatever.’ He punches Ronan’s shoulder. ‘I liked this conversation better when it was about how I am a sex god.’

Ronan throws his head back in laughter. ‘Bet you did,’ he smiles. ‘I mean, it’s not my life, so—but if you want to tell Gansey you’re in love with him, you should do it.’

‘How do you even tell someone that anyway?’ Noah asks, eyes wide and wondering. ‘Do you just drop it while they’re talking about how they’re out of orange juice?’

‘You’re asking me,’ Ronan says, ‘about love declarations. That is, objectively speaking, a terrible idea, seeing as I am not known to be very good with those.’

Noah laughs at him. ‘Legit,’ he says. ‘You’re fucking terrible with feelings. You just, like—pine a lot. And never say anything.’

‘And yet, would you have had Gansey’s dick in your mouth without my help? The answer is no.’

‘That came out–’ Noah says, smirking at Ronan. ‘That sounded like you literally helped open my mouth and guide him, like we’re some kind of sex marionettes and you’re a puppet controller. Like you’re a porn director.’

‘I literally despise you,’ Ronan says, trying not to laugh.

‘You’re right,’ Noah says. ‘You? A porn director? No.’

‘Fuck off, I’d–’ Ronan says, then stops mid-sentence. ‘You know what, I think we should just do something else. What do you want to do?’

‘Are you inquiring about the sex bucket list you mentioned earlier or?’

‘I am asking you what you want to do with me right now,’ Ronan says pointedly.

Noah smirks at him. ‘All right,’ he says, trying to hide the grin in his voice. ‘I would like to go to the dollar store with you.’

‘Let’s go,’ Ronan says, jumping up and dragging Noah with him by the wrist.

 

* * *

 

Ronan shuts the hospital door after him and stands outside on the curb for a second, balling his hands into fists and looking out at the parking lot.

He’d skipped class to go visit his mom and he knew the conversation would be one-sided but he didn’t care. He doesn’t care. She’s still _here_ , partly—she is still his mom and he still gets to hug her and hold her hand and tell her stories about his life. She doesn’t kiss his forehead or tell him everything is going to be all right like she did when he was a kid but it doesn’t matter – he knows she would if she could and he’s not a kid anymore anyway.

He moves forward slowly when he spots something on the ground. He leans down and carefully picks it up, cradling the dark object gently. He hums quietly, looking down at the small bird in his hands.

He drives to the Barns with only his right hand on the wheel, the fingers of his left hand a cage around the raven’s breast.

  
The next day, he brings it to school. Because that’s what you do, isn’t it?

It’s weak and fragile and hurt so he can’t leave it alone at the Barns for _hours_.

Gansey is the first one to spot her. ‘Christ,’ he says. ‘Is that a bird?’

Ronan stares him down, arches an eyebrow. ‘It’s a raven. Her name is Chainsaw.’

‘Aw, she matches the cows,’ Noah says, stabbing a fork into a strawberry and putting it in his mouth. He’s smiling up at Ronan.

‘Where did it _come_ from?’ Gansey asks, looking tremendously confused. He picks up Noah’s hand and laces their fingers together but keeps his glance on Ronan.

‘I found her,’ he says.

‘People find pennies,’ Gansey replies, still looking confused. ‘Or car keys. Or four-leaf clovers.’

‘And ravens,’ Ronan says. ‘You’re just jealous ‘cause you didn’t find one.’

Gansey splutters and looks down.

‘I’ve never found a four-leaf clover,’ Noah says thoughtfully as Adam comes over to them, out of breath and sits down. ‘Hi,’ he says, steadying his breathing. ‘What the fuck is that, Ronan?’

‘A raven,’ Ronan says intelligently, trying to ignore the way the tips of his ears are turning red. Parrish _swearing_ —

‘I can see that,’ Adam says, scrunching up his eyebrows and looking from the bird to Ronan’s eyes. ‘What’s it doing in your hands?’

‘Right now,’ Ronan says. ‘She’s asleep. She might wake up soon, though.’

Adam looks at him for another second, then shakes his head slowly and gets a granola bar out of his bag. He unwraps it slowly as Noah starts talking. ‘Really,’ he picks up again. ‘I’ve never found a four-leaf clover. I think it’s a myth. Do they even exist? I don’t think so.’

‘They do exist,’ Gansey says. ‘I think the myth is the part where they supposedly bring good luck.’

‘I don’t think you’re one to talk about myths,’ Ronan says, staring Gansey down.

‘I’ve never found one either,’ Adam says and wonders for a second if that’s why his situation is as it is: if Ronan found a field of four-leaf clovers in a dream and the magic transcended into real life; maybe Adam broke a million mirrors in a dream which is why he was born into _shit_.

Or maybe luck is a myth.

 

* * *

 

Noah, [15:13]

i told him

 

Ronan looks at his phone for two full minutes, trying to figure out what Noah is talking about. Then he gives up and types out a reply.

 

Ronan, [15:15]

who? what? where the fuck r we czerny ??

 

Noah, [15:16]

oh sorry lol. i told gansey i’m in love w/ him

 

Ronan, [15:16]

and ?? he said ??

 

Noah, [15:17]

HE BLUSHED AND STUTTERED AND SAID HE WAS IN LOVE W/ ME TOO

 

Noah, [15:17]

I’M SCREAMING HE’S SO CUTE I’M SO HAPPY I CAN’T BELIEVE HE’S IN LOVE W/ ME TOO ???

 

Ronan, [15:18]

u two r so gay and i can’t deal with it

 

Ronan, [15:18]

no for real that’s so nice i’m so happy for you

 

Ronan smiles down at his phone at the endless stream of over-excited texts filled with exclamation marks from Noah. He decides to text Gansey.

 

Ronan, [15:20]

heard u and noah did the whole gay “i’m in love with you” thing. congrats u 2 r rly good & i’m happy 4 for u

 

Gansey, [15:21]

thank you! i still can’t believe he told me he was in love with me or that he is.

 

Ronan, [15:22]

trust me … he is … he never shuts up abt u he is SO gone for u pal

 

* * *

 

Adam is hanging out in the park with Ash. It’s a Saturday afternoon and he finally has a moment off and it is _so_ nice. They’re just sitting on a bench, fingers laced together, and looking out over the park.

There’s a playground where a bunch of kids are running around laughing and screaming, playing tag and the ground is lava. A smile tugs at the corner of Adam’s mouth as he remembers how he used to play like this with Ronan and his brothers – how the world always seemed too heavy but at the Barns breathing became easy.

Ash looks over at him and notices his smile. ‘What are you thinking about?’ he asks quietly, smiling too.

‘Nothing, just–’ Adam says, pausing and looking into Ash’s eyes. ‘This is nice.’ He lets his head drop down on Ash’s shoulder and squeezes his hand.

‘It is,’ Ash says, voice thick with affection. He brings their clasped hands up and presses a kiss to Adam’s palm.

It happens with the sound of kids playing in the background and the sun shining and isn’t that _ironic_? Adam looks to his right and spots one of his parents’ friends, looking right at them. _Staring_ at them.

Adam flies up, drops Ash’s hand and scoots away but it’s too late, he saw them, and he’s still staring, and he looks _disgusted_ , and he catches Adam’s eye and slowly shakes his head, spits at the ground, and moves quickly to his car, and—

Adam starts hyperventilating. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, of _course_ , of course, of course, of course, this _had_ to happen, how’d he think that he could have something like this, that he could—that he could showcase this in _public_ , he _knew_ he couldn’t do this, shouldn’t have done this, but he’d been so happy and giddy about the fact that someone like _Ash_ could like someone like _him_ that he’d—he’d wanted the world to know, he’d wanted to scream from a roof, he’d wanted—he’d been so _stupid_ , how could he be so _stupid_ , how could he—

He tries to control his breathing. His heart is thudding, and Ash has his hand on his back and is asking what’s up.

‘I’m fine, I’m fine,’ Adam chokes out, squeezing his eyes shut for a second. ‘I have to—I have to go, I have to–’ He gets up and he starts running. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do – knows, deep-down, there’s nothing he _can_ do – but he feels like he—like he has to try, somehow, if maybe—maybe he won’t tell, maybe—maybe nothing will happen, maybe it’s all right, maybe—

He gets back (back, not home – home is never a word he’s used), steps up the three steps, and then the door opens. Light flashes down over him, his dad is hovering above him, staring him down.

Adam swallows. ‘Hi dad,’ he tries, trying not to choke on fear.

‘Don’t “hi dad” me,’ he says and Adam knows he knows. Of course he knows. The one second of _hope_ was pointless and—why’d he ever—everything is going to hell. It was already hell but it’s going to go even more to hell now. ‘You weren’t planning on introducing us?’ he continues and Adam has to fight hard to keep his eyes open, to not fall to his knees, to not—

‘Heard you’ve got a _boyfriend_.’ The laugh is harsh and dry and it sends shivers up Adam’s spine. He can think of a million places he’d rather be right now and on the bottom of live volcano is one of them.

‘You let him fuck you?’ he continues, raising his eyebrow, and Adam’s knees are turning wobbly, his entire body is turning to liquid, he’s no longer solid, he’s no longer here, he’s no longer—

‘Like a good little _slut_ ,’ Robert says, spit flying everywhere. ‘I knew you weren’t normal but you take it up the _ass_ , I am–’ he pauses and Adam is no longer breathing. ‘I am fucking _revolted._ ’

‘I don’t,’ Adam says, trying to keep his voice level. It comes out as a whisper.

‘ _Do not look in my face and lie to me_ ,’ his father shouts. He wants to disappear, he wants to disappear, he wants to—

He knew it was coming and his arm was still too slow to protect his face. It was more of a sound than a feeling; Adam already incorporeal, already _gone_ , disappeared, not there—he scrambles for balance but his foot misses the edge of the stair and he falls down. His father lets him fall. Nothing has ever been less surprising.

His head hits the railing and there’s so much _light_ and this high-pitched ringing in his ears.

He tries to breathe, opens and closes his mouth in gasps, tries to come back to life, tries to—

‘Oh, come on,’ his father says and he sounds tired. Like he’s the one on the floor, like he’s the one on the receiving end, like he’s—‘Get up. Really.’

He tries to slowly push himself to his hands and knees, breathing unsteady and tight in his throat. His ears still ringing, him waiting for them to stop, them not stopping.

‘You’re not playing that game,’ his father snaps. ‘I’m not going to stop talking about this just because you threw yourself on the ground. I know when you’re faking, Adam. I’m not a fool. I can’t believe you’d do this, that’d you publicly display what kind of _perverse_ things you’re into. Not caring what people will _think_ –’

He knows he’s far from done but Adam is grasping to hold onto consciousness and he can’t focus on his voice, on the words, and it’s just insults anyway, it’s just a chorus of _you’re wrong, you’re wrong, you’re wrong_.

He has to put himself in his dad’s head, he has to figure out what will solve this, what will _fix_ this, what will—but he can’t _think_ , he can’t clear his mind, it’s foggy, and the _ringing_ and everything—

‘You’re disgusting,’ Robert carries on, spitting the words out at his son. ‘ _Faggot_. _Repulsive_.’

Adam mentally zones completely out then; he leaves, watches from above how his dad pulls him up by the collar and spits him in the face, how he punches him, and kicks him, and continues yelling about how he’s a _disappointment_ and how he’s _disgusting_ and how he’s _unnatural_ and _sick_. Watches as he gasps for breath, sobs, _begs_ for him to stop, and he knows that won’t help, it _never_ helps, it makes it worse; watches as his dad talks about how he should’ve _known_ he was gay ‘cause he’s always been such a _pussy_ , always been _crying_ , never known how to be _quiet_ , never—

At some point, the beating stops. Adam is barely conscious, he’d stopped reacting at all, so Robert probably got tired and went to fetch a beer.

Adam is destroyed. He feels hollowed-out and everything _aches_ – more emotionally than physically, though he knows the physical pain will come soon. It’ll come as soon as he mentally snaps back into reality, when he becomes corporeal again. He’s so sad, he just—he is _so_ sad he doesn’t even want to hide it. He wants _comfort_ , wants someone to hug him, tell him it’s going to be all right even though they’ll both know it won’t.

He somehow makes it up again, staggering to his knees, grasping for balance. He gets out his phone and with shaking fingers he calls Ronan.

‘Adam,’ he hears the voice on the other end and it sounds far away. He can’t _hear_. He puts the phone to his other ear and his name is repeated, a little clearer. ‘Adam, you there?’

‘Ronan,’ he says and his voice is small and trembly but in that moment he doesn’t even have the energy to hate himself. ‘Can you—can you come pick me up for the night?’

‘I’m on my way,’ Ronan says and Adam can hear the sound of movement. ‘I’ll be there in five minutes.’

‘Who’d you call?’ Robert asks. He’s back, standing in the doorway and looking down at Adam. Adam can’t do this, he can’t—not again, please go back inside, please go drink, or watch television, or—but of course he won’t do that, they’re going to do this again, it doesn’t matter what Adam wants or can or can’t, it’s never mattered, it doesn’t matter—

‘Your _boyfriend_? You need him to come defend your honour? Can’t fight your own battles?’ he scoffs, full of contempt. ‘Never could, could you. Weak, pathetic, sick _fag_ –’ and he’s above him again, pulling him up by the collar, and thrown back on the ground. His ears are ringing in a familiar way and he can’t make out what’s going on. It’s like there’s cotton around him; protective and deafening and suffocating.

His father bellows something above him but it’s lost, he can’t make out what’s going on, ‘ _Do not ignore me_!’

A choir inside his mind: _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, I’ll do anything, everything, please, please, please, don’t hit me again, please, please–_

He turns his head from Adam – Adam notices that – and shouts, ‘What do _you_ want?’

‘To do this,’ a voice snarls and Adam recognises it as Ronan’s and he lets his eyes fall shut, breathes out heavily.

Ronan smashes his fist into the side of Robert’s face.

Adam opens his eyes again and looks up at him, hopeless. Beyond him he can see the BMW; the door still open, the headlights on. Ronan had come for him – he’d asked and Ronan had _come_. He’d dropped whatever he was doing and he’d _come_ – for _Adam_.

‘Ronan,’ he says, or maybe only thinks. He can’t hear, he can’t think, he can’t _exist_.

Adam sees it all unravel in front of him: Robert grabbing Ronan’s shirt and pushing him towards the double-wide, Ronan getting his feet under him, Robert doubling over and Ronan’s knee in his stomach, dad crashing his skull into Ronan’s face, Ronan swearing, the fight dirty, mom suddenly there, screaming for them to stop, waving around a phone.

The fight doesn’t stop. ‘Ronan,’ Adam tries again but even he can hear how pathetic and small his voice comes out.

He catches bits and pieces: dragging and rolling and punches, skin, heavy breathing and swearing, his mom still screaming—noise. It’s all just noise. He needs to stand up, he needs to get away – with Ronan – he needs to stop this, to fix this, he needs—

Red and blue, flashing. Lights. Oh. _Oh_.

The cops.

‘Son,’ he hears a voice say. An officer kneels beside him. ‘Are you OK?’ The officer helps him to his feet and Adam looks up, sees another officer pulling Ronan off his dad.

‘I’m OK,’ he says, voice thick with cotton. He needs to snap out of this, he needs to—this wasn’t supposed—Ronan wasn’t supposed to—

The officer lets go off his arm but a second later he grabs it again, steadies Adam. ‘Boy, you’re not OK. Have you been drinking?’

 _No_ , Adam thinks. _I’ve never been drunk_.

He hears Ronan shout something from across the lot, lots of profanity and _beats the shit_. Adam swallows hard and tries not to fall. He wants the whole world to stop. He wants everything to be quiet, and soft, and _stop_. Everything is blurry, then clearer, then blurry, then clearer; he can make out Ronan’s outline, dimly.

‘Is he being cuffed?’ he asks, choking hard. The officer looks down at him.

He can hear Ronan say something, his voice heavy with venom. ‘I’ve _got_ it man,’ he says and Adam’s skin is one fire. ‘Do you think I’ve never been in one of these before?’ Has Ronan—Ronan has been cuffed like this before, he’s—it must’ve been after Niall’s death, the long month where he didn’t speak to Adam, where he only saw peripheral glimpses of him – always looking like bad news and danger, the leather jacket, the smell of vodka, the—and now Ronan’s being _cuffed_ right here, right now, _again_ , and because of Adam and—he can’t—this can’t happen—he can’t go to jail because of Adam, he can’t—

But that means telling, that means betraying his _family_ , and _God_ , he hates them—he hates them, he hates them, he hates them, but part of him—and _mom_ —and her voice in the back of his mind, _“Don’t say anything, Adam. Tell him you fell down. It really was a little your fault, wasn’t it? We’ll deal with it as a family”_ but now Ronan—he can’t go to jail because of him, he can’t do that to him, he can’t—

‘Ronan was defending me,’ he chokes out and his voice sounds hollow and wrong and like it’s coming from a far, far away place. The officer’s expression focuses on him and he nods to carry on.

‘All this… is from him. My face and my…’

He can feel mom’s look on him, her _eyes_ , they’re—penetrating him, he knows what she’s thinking: _how can you do this? How can you do this to us—we raised you._ Adam closes his eyes because he can’t say this and look at her. He’s falling, fast, everything is collapsing and it’s _terrifying_ , he doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t—

‘Can I…’ he says, voicing what he’s never been able to, what he’s always wanted but never—‘Can I press charges?’

  
He moves in in a tiny apartment above the church which Ronan visits every Sunday.

Ronan helped set it up – he had contacts there from regularly going to mass his entire life and the apartment was vacant. He offered to help with the rent, knowing Adam would refuse.

Adam refused. ‘I’ve already—you’ve already done more—I can’t accept that,’ he’d stuttered out, voice flat and hopeless. ‘It’s not a problem, anyway. As long as Aglionby doesn’t raise tuition costs, it’s—it’s all right. Thank you.’

He lost hearing in his left ear, permanently. It’s the first time, he thinks, his dad really—where something _permanent_ like this happened. He’s had bruises, and cuts, and he has scars, yes, but—they’re permanent in another way. They don’t affect his life – sure, he feels terrible when changing before and after PE and he hurries as much as he can but still, they don’t _change_ anything. That’s just body image issues and he’s got some self-consciousness – now he can’t _hear_.

So he figures, it should be the final push. He should finally be able to one hundred per cent despise his family.

He thinks he does, sort of. He knows he does. He hates his dad, and mom—but there’s still an echo of _how_ ; he still feels guilty about it. They hurt him, they _abused_ him, but what if—maybe they were really just doing their best, maybe–?

They weren’t doing their best. His parents never loved him, they never cared about him, he was _always_ in the way. And he doesn’t love them. But he feels guilty about that, for some reason. None of this makes any _sense_ goddamn it, why can’t things just _for once_ make some goddamn sense? Why can’t life just be like a math problem or a translation for Latin? (He could ask Ronan for help with that, but life is just—he can’t ask for help. He doesn’t _want_ to ask for help. He wants to fix this himself; he wants to get better—by and for himself. And now he’s out of the trailer park, which he has wanted since the beginning, and here he is: feeling hopeless and rootless and terribly, terrifyingly _numb_.)

 

* * *

 

Adam is lying on his back on the empty football field, eyes closed. He’s been doing physics homework with Ash and he’s finally finished.

He can feel movement and then Ash is lying beside him and grabs his hand.

Adam turns his head and blinks sleepily at him. ‘Hey,’ he whispers softly, smiling.

Ash smiles lazily at him. ‘Hey there, handsome,’ he says back in the same quiet voice. Adam’s smile widens and he leans over to swiftly press his lips to his, then rolls over and looks back up at the sky.

Ash is tracing patterns into his palm. ‘Mom asked me to tell you again about Semanta Santa mass and our family meal afterwards,’ he says. ‘She really wants you to come.’

Adam turns his head and looks up at his boyfriend, smiling. ‘I’ll be there,’ he says. ‘Boyd let me change my shift. Tell her I’ll come. Your whole family will be there, right?’

Ash grins at him and nods. ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Mom’s side. They’re all flying in from Monterrey so it’s kind of a big deal. We only ever see them at Christmas so this will be nice. I really want you to meet them,’ he adds, voice quiet and not looking Adam in the eye.

‘I can’t wait to meet them,’ Adam answers, moving around so his head is on Ash’s chest. He feels as Ash tangles his fingers in his hair and Adam closes his eyes and hums softly.

 

* * *

 

Ronan, [14:32]

yo wanna hang out?

 

Blue, [14:34]

my shift ends in 26 minutes yes pls !!!!!!

 

Ronan, [14:34]

nice i’ll pick u up

 

He drives to Nino’s and winks at Blue as he walks inside, Chainsaw perched on his shoulder. She rolls his eyes at him and he dumps down, ‘fancy meeting you here.’

‘Yes, shocking,’ Blue responds.

‘Can I have a coke?’ Ronan asks, smiling at her. ‘While I wait.’

‘While you wait,’ Blue repeats, finding a coke for him. ‘That’ll be two bucks. Tip generously.’

Ronan gets out his wallet and hands Blue a five dollar bill. ‘Will that suffice?’ he asks.

A couple enters and Blue spins around and away from Ronan.

Twenty minutes later, they’re sitting in the BMW. Blue has two milkshakes in her hands and her feet on the dash. ‘Where do you want to go?’ she asks and slurps from her straw.

‘I don’t know,’ Ronan says. ‘You want to go to the Barns? I’ll beat your ass in Mario Kart.’

‘Honey,’ Blue says. ‘As if you could _ever_ …’

‘Fuck off,’ Ronan says, starting the car. ‘I could beat your ass at anything and you know it.’

‘I mean,’ Blue says, smirking. ‘You can always try.’

Ronan doesn’t dignify that with a response but just grabs his milkshake from her hand puts the straw in his mouth, left hand steering the wheel.

‘How are things with Jess?’ he asks.

‘Good,’ Blue smiles at him. ‘We’re kind of just hanging out, you know.’

‘More like making out,’ Ronan deadpans.

‘That too,’ Blue says. ‘But I don’t know if I want, like, something established? I don’t know exactly where I am regarding romantic attraction, so. But Jess feels kind of the same so for now we’re just—you know, having fun and it’s easy and nice. She’s really cool.’

‘I know,’ Ronan grins. ‘I’ve literally played tennis with her for years. I think her and Adam had something once.’

‘They totally did,’ Blue laughs and Ronan looks over at her and laughs with her.

‘I mean, he’s model-level gorgeous so who can _really_ blame her,’ Ronan says.

‘That was fucking gay,’ Blue says, punching his shoulder. ‘You’re right, but still.’

‘I’m stating _facts_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘How is that gay?’

‘Suuure,’ Blue smirks, leaning her head back against the headrest. ‘Just guys being dudes, right?’

Ronan flushes and keeps his eyes on the road. ‘Adam has a boyfriend.’

‘Yes,’ Blue says. ‘That is correct.’

 

* * *

 

‘You still up for tonight?’ Ash asks, sitting down by the table next to Adam’s.

Adam looks up and smiles at him. ‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I’ll be at yours around six, if that’s all right?’

‘Perfect,’ Ash grins, leaning over and kissing him softly.

The bell rings, they still kiss. The teacher coughs and Ash pulls away, finally, and looks up at him. He flashes a smile and winks, then sits down on his own chair again. He looks over at Adam who’s looking down at his papers, faint blush high on his cheeks.

  
He knocks on the door and it’s Ash’s mom that opens.

‘Adam,’ she says, smiling brightly at him. ‘Ash said you’d come over. And just in time for dinner!’

‘Mrs Lightwood,’ Adam says, smiling back at her. ‘Hi.’

‘We’re having picadas,’ she blabbers on. ‘Come in, come in. Ash is in the kitchen.’

Adam follows her in and grins widely when he sees Ash in the kitchen, wearing a KISS THE COOK apron. He walks up and pecks a small kiss to his cheek. ‘Hey,’ he says.

‘Hey there,’ Ash says, turning around and kissing Adam properly. ‘Glad you could come.’

Adam smiles up at him, then turns back around and looks at his mom. ‘Can I help set the table?’

Mrs Lightwood mutters in delight about _what a lovely, well-mannered young boy_ and _you did good there, Ash honey_. Adam turns over and grins at Ash.

Dinner is nice. Adam isn’t used to food this spicy – partly because he lives mostly of oatmeal and water. Ash’s dad makes a toast to life and happiness, and Adam raises the glass, looking over at his boyfriend and smiling. He tries to ignore whatever undercurrent of _something_ he’s feeling.

After, Adam and Ash help clean the kitchen and go to Ash’s room. Adam goes to investigate Ash’s bookcase – he’s done it before but he likes going through it. There aren’t only books in it; there are snow globes and framed photographs and a potted cactus. He picks up a deck of cards and turns around and arches an eyebrow at Ash. ‘Want me to wreck you in go fish?’

Ash raises his eyebrow and smirks at his boyfriend. ‘As if you could ever,’ he says and Adam walks over and sits down cross-legged opposite him on the bed. ‘Oh, you’re so on.’

They play. Adam wins. He smirks up at Ash as he gathers the cards together and starts shuffling them.

‘Do I get a consolation prize?’ Ash asks, smirk in place. He looks like he wants to eat Adam whole.

‘Hmm,’ Adam says. ‘Isn’t it usually the winner who gets a prize?’

Ash looks at him, slowly pushes himself forward. ‘What do you want?’ he asks, his voice dropped low. He licks his lips and Adam’s eyes dart down. He isn’t shuffling the cards anymore. ‘Kiss me,’ he says, voice hoarse.

Ash moves the last bit forward and plants his mouth on Adam’s; there’s no hesitant part, no chasteness; it’s all hunger and tongues, heavy breathing.

Adam throws the cards to the side and moves forward, pushing Ash down on the bed and straddling his hips. He doesn’t break away for air; keeps his mouth on Ash’s, kissing him roughly and messily, pulling away and experimentally beginning to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses down his jaw, neck, collarbone. ‘Is this OK?’ he pulls away to ask, voice cracking. Ash is looking at him with blown eyes and red-bitten lips. He nods. ‘Yeah,’ he breathes out, clearing his throat. ‘This is good. This is—it’s OK with you too?’

‘Yes,’ Adam says, grinning. ‘I want to—do more than kiss.’ He leans forward again and presses his lips to Ash’s mouth, drawing a sound from him. He tangles his fingers in his hair and pulls away again, blinks up at him. ‘If you want too?’

The question hovers between them for all of two seconds before Ash snaps back in reality and nods, head bobbing up and down. ‘Yeah,’ he says, voice hoarse. He leans forward and crashes his mouth on Adam’s, kissing him like he never wants to stop. For one second, there’s a flash of Ronan’s face on Adam’s eyelids but he chokes it down and kisses Ash again, more hungry this time.

Shirts go off and Ash pushes Adam down, kissing all over his chest. Then, his hand is around his dick, jerking slowly, and Adam closes his eyes and tries to stop his hips from twitching. ‘Fuck,’ he whispers and he can feel Ash smirking down at him. He opens his eyes and flips them over so he’s straddling Ash again. He rolls his hips and grins down at him.

Ash comes choking Adam’s name in a broken whisper. Adam doesn’t say a name, because he’s afraid it’ll be a different one if he does.

Afterwards, they lie curled together, Ash tracing patterns into Adam’s shoulder blades, drawing lines between his freckles. ‘That was–’ he whispers, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Adam’s back.

‘Yeah,’ Adam whispers, not turning around. He hates himself, then, more than ever before. Ash is so good – he’s a wonderful guy and he _likes_ him, he does, and yet—and yet, right now, he was thinking about how there weren’t any glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, almost spilling the wrong name over his lips, imagining what it would’ve been like if—

If it had been Ronan, he thinks. If it had been Ronan whispering his name like that, all holy. He squeezes his eyes shut and swallows hard. He’s not thinking about this.

Ash is amazing – Ash is—he’s _amazing_ and he deserves better than this. He deserves—the world, really.

Adam hates himself.

  
He tells Ronan about it. He thinks maybe that’s odd, everything considered, but he tells Ronan _everything_. Well, except that one thing.

‘Ash and I,’ he begins, looking up at Ronan. They’re sitting in the BMW, parked under a tree. Adam has work in an hour but right now they’re just spending time together. ‘You know…’

Ronan looks over at him, swallows everything he’s feeling, and says, ‘you had sex?’

‘No, I mean—yeah, I mean—we didn’t _fuck_ ,’ he says. ‘But we also—didn’t just kiss.’ He looks over at Ronan, smiling in disbelief.

Ronan feels a knot in his throat and he curses himself, _keep a straight face, no don’t punch anything, no don’t think that, this is good, he’s happy, be fucking supportive_. ‘Was it good?’ he asks quietly, working hard on keeping his voice level. He smiles encouragingly at Adam.

Adam looks at him for a moment before saying anything, thinking: _don’t say you thought about him, don’t say you thought about him, don’t say—_ ‘yeah,’ he says, closing his eyes for a second. ‘It’s—way different than when you’re on your own. He did this thing–’ _I wish it had been you_.

He thinks about how, really, he owes to be up-front with Ronan. He owes to tell him that he gets off thinking about him, that he’s—he owes it to Ash to tell him, too.

  
Ronan can’t fall asleep. He keeps thinking about how Ash and Adam have—Ash’s hands all over Adam, probably saying his name in some choked-off moan, whispering—and _Adam_ —Adam saying _Ash_ , all broken and terrifyingly hot, all—

He doesn’t want to think about this. He really, really doesn’t want to think about this, it’s making him sad and he feels—he hates this and jealousy is _bad_ , especially when you don’t have any reasons or rights to be jealous in the first place, he’s—

The image that has plagued his mind for months appears again, Adam’s voice all low and breathy, asking _can I blow you?_ except now it’s to Ash and not Ronan and—it’s bad when it’s to Ronan because that’s creepy and freaky and bad but it’s—when it’s _Ash_ —Adam with someone else, and—

God, he has never hated himself quite this much.

 

* * *

 

It’s Saturday morning and Ronan and Matthew are sitting on the living room floor playing Mario Kart.

Ronan is falling behind, naturally, and all of a sudden he’s hit with a wave of some kind of nostalgia – this is just like old times, he thinks; he thinks about how long it’s been since him and Matthew have sat down and just existed together, played a game, or watched a movie, or talked.

‘Have you ever,’ he begins, the words out of his mouth before he realises and now it’s too late to back down. He swallows hard. ‘Haven’t you ever—felt _bad_ , or wrong, or—I don’t know, for liking boys?’

Matthew looks up at him, smiling so his dimples appear. He hits pause on his controller. ‘Not really,’ he says, scrunching up his eyebrows. ‘Boys are cute.’

Ronan doesn’t reply because he isn’t sure what to say.

‘Have you?’ Matthew asks sincerely even though the answer is obvious from the way Ronan phrased his question.

Ronan nods, then feels ridiculous for being like this: for the lump in his throat, the way it’s hard to swallow, the way he can’t _speak_. ‘Yeah,’ he says finally, squeezing his fist tight.

‘Why?’ Matthew asks and his voice is so solemn Ronan wants to scream. The question is so simple, just a single word, and yet—Ronan has never actually thought too much about the reasons, _why_ it was bad—it just _was_. ‘I don’t know,’ he says and he’s surprised by how much honesty is leaking from his voice.

‘So, you’re hating yourself,’ Matthew says, with an air to his voice of _clearing things up_. ‘Without even knowing fully _why_?’

Ronan stares at him. Stares, and stares, and stares. When did his little brother get so goddamn smart? He opens his mouth, and then closes it again. ‘I don’t–’ he begins. ‘Don’t hate myself that much anymore.’

‘Good,’ Matthew says, nodding and smiling at him. ‘You shouldn’t.’

Ronan clears his throat and looks down. ‘Neither should you,’ he says, and a moment later: ‘I miss her too.’

Matthew takes his hand and squeezes it, giving him a smile. ‘I know,’ he says. ‘I miss her. I miss dad, too.’

‘Me too,’ Ronan says. ‘So much.’

‘I think they’d both be very happy with how we’re doing,’ Matthew says. ‘About everything, I think. And they’d not want you to hate yourself.’

Ronan laughs quietly at him and squeezes his hand back. ‘They wouldn’t want you to either.’

Matthew smiles up at him, all teeth and dimples, then turns around and looks back at the screen. He hits play and forty seconds later he’s in on first place and Ronan is all down at seventh.

‘You still fucking suck at this,’ Matthew says, grinning at his brother.

‘Don’t fucking swear.’

  
‘Do you want to visit mom tomorrow?’ Matthew asks quietly when Ronan is in his room that night, saying goodnight. ‘With me. Or the day after?’

‘Tomorrow is good,’ Ronan says. ‘We can go after school?’

‘Sweet,’ Matthew says, smiling sleepily. ‘I’m excited.’

‘Me too,’ Ronan says. ‘Sleep well.’

‘Mmm, you too.’

  
They go together, just Matthew and Ronan. Matthew squeezes Ronan’s hand and smiles up at him, then pushes the door open and they’re let in.

‘Mom,’ he says delightedly when they enter her room. She’s sitting on the bed with a book open, though Ronan isn’t sure as to whether she’s been getting any reading done.

Matthew goes to hug her tight. ‘How are you?’ he asks and Aurora doesn’t say anything, but does look up at him, with something that looks like recognition.

‘School is good,’ he says. ‘Oh, and I was at this choir thing last Friday with the church choir, it was really funny. And Ronan and I played Mario Kart the other day and I _destroyed_ him, obviously. He’s never been very good at it. Of course, he’s always been distracted by looking at Adam’s hands, though, so.’

‘Wow, _rude_ ,’ Ronan says, blushing and punching his brother’s shoulder. ‘What the fuck.’

‘Oh, you’re here,’ Matthew says, blinking at Ronan. ‘Well, it’s true. They’re still not dating,’ he carries on looking back at his mom. ‘I think it’s kind of sad…’

‘Fuck off,’ Ronan says. ‘How’s your love life going anyway? Mom,’ he says, turning his head to look at Aurora. ‘He told you how I walked in on him and Brandon _kissing_?’

‘That was _so_ rude of you,’ Matthew says. ‘You didn’t even _knock_.’

‘You could’ve put up a _sign_ ,’ Ronan says, grinning.

‘The door was _closed_ ,’ Matthew says. ‘Should’ve been enough. Whatever. Yeah, mom, me and Brandon were kissing and it was really nice and then Ronan barged in all “hey Matthew, did you eat the last cocoa puffs?” as if I can be bothered to think about cereal when I have a _cute boy’s tongue in my mouth_.’

‘I was in the mood for _cocoa puffs_ ,’ Ronan says. ‘And there weren’t any fucking _left_. You’re the rude one, really.’

‘Maybe,’ Matthew says. ‘But I’m the one with a sweet boy in my room, so. Can I really be bothered to care?’

‘Fuck off,’ Ronan says. ‘What are you trying to say?’

‘Oh, nothing,’ Matthew says, smiling innocently at his brother. They both look over at their mom and smile at her softly, thinking about how it’s like old times; them bickering good-naturedly and Aurora there, too. Loving them.

Them being a family.

They miss her, both of them. There still haven’t been any major improvements to speak of and Ronan is silently losing bits of hope, but still—everything can happen, really. And this is nice too. Just being with her; her smiling softly at them as they update her on their lives, teasing each other, being— _happy_.

 

* * *

 

Adam slides down the aisle, his arms out to the sides, laughing.

Ash catches his waist from behind; almost making them both fall over. They’re breathless, both laughing.

‘Gotcha,’ he breathes into Adam’s neck. Adam grins and shakes his head as he wriggles out of Ash’s arms and makes a run for it.

Ash catches him again, this time really tackling them both over so they’re lying beside each other on the Walmart floor. They lie there, both panting for a second, and then Adam starts laughing.

‘I definitely won,’ he gasps out, smiling over at Ash.

‘I caught you,’ Ash argues. ‘ _Twice_.’

‘You cheated!’ Adam says defiantly, smile in his voice.

‘How would I even cheat?’ Ash asks confused.

‘I don’t know,’ Adam says. ‘I’ll figure it out though.’ He shakes his head slowly, still laughing softly.

They take off the white socks they’d used for sliding on the floor, puts on their other ones and shoes, and goes to the desk to pay for the white ones.

Or rather, used-to-be-white ones. The clerk blinks at the filthy soles and looks up at them questioningly. Adam smiles at her, and she blushes and looks down, telling them what it’ll be.

They get into the car, and then Ash looks over at him. ‘You realise how being so _painfully_ beautiful always gets you out of trouble?’ he asks and Adam gapes at him, shy blush appearing. ‘Shut up,’ he laughs, pushing his shoulder.

‘No way,’ Ash grins. ‘It’s like that time we broke into the ice rink at night and we got caught and you charmed our way out of it.’

‘Shut _up_ ,’ Adam repeats, still laughing.

‘No, that’s not even the worst,’ Ash says, voice disbelieving. ‘Do I really have to mention when you pushed the entirety of the cereal box aisle on top of me at the supermarket? Who talked to the manager then? You. And you’ve got the kids at swimming wrapped around your finger. It’s mind-blowing, man.’

‘OK, fine,’ Adam says, grinning at Ash. ‘I’m hot. Gorgeous. Wonderfully amazing. What can you do?’

‘That’s right,’ Ash says, smiling up at him. ‘And I get to _kiss_ you.’

‘ _Oh_ ,’ Adam says, arching his right eyebrow at him. Three seconds later the driver’s seat is pushed back and Adam is sitting askew Ash’s lap, kissing him.

‘Hng,’ Ash whimpers in a low voice and Adam smirks down at him, biting his lip.

 

* * *

 

They’re in Adam’s tiny apartment above the church. It’s Friday and school is finally out.

Ash is lying on Adam’s mattress and Adam is standing by the sink, pouring water in a glass. He turns around and smiles down at Ash as he takes a sip.

‘There’s a football match Sunday,’ he says. ‘It’s big, there’ll be college talent scouts.’

‘Oh,’ Adam says, putting down his glass.

‘Oh what?’ Ash asks, raising his eyebrows. ‘You not going to come?’

‘No, I–’ Adam stutters, fidgeting with his shirtsleeve. ‘You know Ronan has tennis matches Sunday. It’s tradition.’

‘Yeah, but can’t you skip one time?’ Ash says, sitting up on the mattress. ‘It’s not like–’

‘It’s not like what?’ Adam asks. ‘It’s _tradition_.’

‘OK, sure, he’s your best friend,’ Ash says, harshly. He’s not yelling but almost. He’s more frustrated and sad than really angry. ‘But I’m your _boyfriend_. And it’s—it’s kind of big. And it’s just _once_.’

‘You can’t ask me to put you over Ronan,’ Adam whispers, voice full of disbelief. His eyes are wide. ‘You can’t ask me to _choose_.’

‘I’m not—I don’t know what to _do_ ,’ he says. ‘This _always_ happens and I don’t know—I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to change for me to be enough.’

‘Ash, don’t do this,’ Adam whispers. ‘Don’t say that.’

‘Don’t say _what_?’ Ash says and he can feel the hurt turning to anger, the hostility in his voice. ‘I’ve never had a problem with you and Ronan hanging out, I’m not possessive like that. I don’t even mind whenever you cancel our plans because something came up with him, I just—I knew what I was getting into when we started dating. It’s just how it _always_ happens. I’m _always_ second choice, and—I don’t know I’m just tired and frustrated. I know he’s important to you. And I love that about you, love that you care about people and—I just—I’m your _boyfriend_ , Adam. Does this even mean anything to you?’ he raises his hand in frustration to run it through his hair but Adam freezes when he sees the movement. ‘Please,’ he whispers, voice barely audible. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ he continues, eyes unfocused. His knees give out and he falls to the floor, cowering.

Ash’s mouth drops open and his arm falls down again. Adam is—what’s going—

‘I’m sorry,’ Adam whispers again. ‘Please don’t—I promise I won’t—it won’t, I won’t— _please_.’

The last word reverberates with so much helplessness Ash gulps, not sure what to do.

Adam is on the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees. He rocks back and forth, trying to calm himself down. It’s OK, it’s OK, it’s OK, it’ll pass, be quiet and don’t cry, it’s OK—then, his dad’s voice: _stop being a fucking child_ – the voice echoing in his mind, his dad’s face appearing in his mind; angry, screaming, red face and spitting – _grow up, crying is for pussies, are you a pussy?_

He starts silently crying, he can’t stop, tears trailing down his cheeks, and all the while he keeps whispering, ‘please. Please don’t—’

He doesn’t even know where he is, what’s going on, he thinks there’s another boy but it might be his mind twisting his dad’s face to look like Ronan’s, is this—is Ronan about to hit him, is—no, Ronan would never, Ronan wouldn’t—it’s his dad, or someone else, it’s not Ronan, it’s—is it a nightmare, is he asleep, is—he doesn’t know what to do, he’s hyperventilating, he can’t breathe, he’s—‘please,’ he repeats again. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’

Ash snaps out of it and tries to keep his cool. He wants to comfort Adam but he thinks touching him would make things worse, wouldn’t help—‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘Adam, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, I wasn’t going to do anything, I didn’t—I’m sorry.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ Adam continues, voice hoarse and cracking and barely even there. ‘Please don’t—’

Ash knows what he needs to do. He gets out his phone and calls Ronan. ‘Ronan, it’s Ash,’ he says and his voice sounds terrified. ‘Adam needs you. I’m sorry, Ronan, fuck, I’m—please, can you get here?’

‘The church?’ Ronan asks and Ash can hear movement, telling him Ronan is already on his way.

‘Yeah, yes,’ he says. ‘I’m sorry, fuck, I’m–’

His phone beeps as Ronan hangs up, not saying anything more. He stays with Adam, at a safe distance, not touching him. He stops apologising, too; figuring it isn’t helping Adam snap out of this, come back to reality. He’s left to anxiously await Ronan’s arrival.

Ronan arrives, opening and closing the door softly.

Ash gets up quickly, ‘he just—fell to the floor, I don’t know what happened, I’m sorry, I–’

Ronan looks terrifying, all militant and sharp edges. He sees Adam on the floor and moves past Ash quickly, falling to his knees in front of his friend. ‘Hey,’ he whispers softly, gingerly reaching out and pulling Adam to his chest. ‘Hey, I’m here. You’re safe. Nothing is going to hurt you, I’m not going to let anything hurt you.’

Adam heaves a violent sob and shakes in Ronan’s embrace.

‘Stay with me,’ Ronan continues, voice quiet and gentle. Ash thinks for a second of the paradox: Ronan looking like bad news like this, ready to _kill_ , yet handling Adam with such care.

‘Focus on me,’ Ronan says. ‘Hey, just listen to my voice, right? It’s Ronan. You’re here with me. You’re here. You’re real. You exist. You’re alive and you’re safe. Nothing is going to hurt you.’

Slowly, the pause between the sobs gets longer and eventually Adam isn’t crying anymore. He’s stopped apologising and stopped begging; now he’s just clinging onto Ronan, breathing heavily.

Ronan turns his head and looks back up at Ash. ‘Go,’ he says. ‘I’ll take care of him.’

Ash nods, just once. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says again before backing out of the room.

Ronan helps Adam to his feet and leads him to the mattress. ‘Do you want me to stay?’ he asks in the softest voice imaginable, looking at Adam with a sincere expression.

Adam nods at him. ‘Please,’ he whispers.

Ronan smiles softly at him, kicks off his boots, and gingerly puts a blanket over Adam. He lies down beside him and pulls him close, softly tangles his fingers in his hair. He hums softly, then whispers, ‘you’re safe. You’re alive. Nothing is going to hurt you.’

Adam moves impossibly closer and has his arm across Ronan’s body, the touch grounding him, making him feel real, like a physical reminder of his corporeality, the fact that he exists. And it’s _Ronan_. Ronan would never hurt him.

‘Thank you,’ he whispers into his shoulder, voice thick with sleep. _I love you_ , he thinks but he catches himself before he says anything. Right now is good, and safe, and he’s not going to—it doesn’t matter. He hugs Ronan tighter and they fall asleep like that, cuddled up and sharing heat, grounding each other.

 

* * *

 

Ash calls Ronan and Ronan contemplates for a full minute whether to pick up or not. He doesn’t really want to – hates phone calls and isn’t particularly fond of Ash either, especially not after—whatever happened. He doesn’t know exactly what went down because Adam hasn’t explained and Ronan hasn’t asked.

In the end, he figures Ash wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important so he picks up.

He doesn’t say anything in greeting because he doesn’t care to.

‘Ronan?’ Ash asks and his voice sounds shaky. Ronan almost takes pity for a second, then swallows.

‘Ash,’ he says and it comes out cut-off and slightly hostile.

‘Um,’ Ash says and Ronan can hear him swallow hard. ‘It’s about Adam,’ he says and Ronan wants to scoff, _well, obviously_. He also wants to hang up, and for the world to end, and for—whatever.

‘I don’t know what happened,’ he carries on. ‘And I’m scared I fucked everything up and he hates me, and–’ There’s a pause which Ronan doesn’t interrupt.

‘I want to fix things,’ he says quietly. ‘I love him. How can I fix this?’

‘Fuck if I know,’ Ronan says, all venom. Then he hates himself a little because Adam seemed really, really happy with Ash and he doesn’t know what went down and what if—‘I have no idea. I’m not the guy you should ask.’

‘Of course, sorry, I know,’ Ash says quietly. ‘I don’t know if he wants to talk to me.’

‘I don’t either,’ Ronan says with an air of finality. Then he hangs up.

  
Adam ignores the texts and calls from Ash.

Ronan and Noah installed personalised ring tones so he simply ignores the phone whenever it isn’t Ronan’s tune.

He buries himself in even more work than before – both school and jobs, and then he hangs out with his friends. Noah invites them all over one afternoon and it’s good. It is so good Adam wants to sob from happiness.

Blue telling jokes and braiding Noah’s hair; Noah and Gansey holding hands and Gansey talking about mythology and history; Ronan—Ronan and Noah telling the story of their last trip to the skate park and Noah being unable to stop laughing for six whole minutes as he tries to tell how Ronan fell on his ass when trying to do a kickflip.

‘Fuck you,’ Ronan says, but he’s laughing too. ‘Fuck you, fuck you, you’re OK,’ he continues, pointing at Blue. ‘ _Fuck_ you,’ he finishes.

‘It was so funny,’ Noah gasps. ‘He was all, like, “yo bro, watch me” and then he just failed so _spectacularly_.’

Ronan fake-scowls for a second, then rolls over on the floor and clutches at his sides as he laughs.

 

* * *

 

Ronan is sitting with Noah in his bedroom drinking strawberry lemonade, which Mrs Czerny and her daughters had spent the weekend making.

‘Gansey and I fucked,’ Noah says out of nowhere, taking another sip of his glass.

Ronan chokes on his and has to fight hard not to spit it everywhere; Noah starts laughing when he sees Ronan’s reaction.

‘Fuck, I’m sorry,’ he gasps out between laughing, as Ronan wipes at his mouth with his sleeve and tries not to implode.

‘That’s nice to know,’ Ronan says slowly, nodding. He bats Noah’s shoulder and rolls down on the bed and looks up at the ceiling. ‘So how was it?’ he asks quietly, still looking at the ceiling and not at Noah.

Noah is still sitting cross-legged on the bed and he grins down at Ronan before putting down his glass, unfolding his legs, and lying down as well. ‘It was…’ he says and pauses, biting his lip. ‘I don’t know, are you OK with this?’

‘I’m OK with this,’ Ronan replies. ‘How was it?’

‘It was _good_ ,’ Noah says, turning his head and smiling at Ronan. ‘We spent like two hours just making out and then I was just—I don’t know, I asked if I could ride him.’

‘Oh my God,’ Ronan says, shaking his head slowly. ‘I’m not even—surprised by that.’

‘Yeah, me neither,’ Noah laughs. ‘Anyway, I mean, like, I was really nervous, kind of. I don’t know? I think I was pretty nervous. Gansey was _really_ nervous.’ He shifts and looks back up at the ceiling, closing his eyes. ‘It was kind of—I don’t know. Fuck, he looked so _good_. His hair all dishevelled and sweaty and his lips so red from biting them, he was so— _wrecked_ , eyelashes fluttering, hips twitching.’ Noah pauses and bites his lips, looks over at Ronan.

Ronan actually isn’t uncomfortable by Noah talking about this. He’s becoming more—first of all it’s different to talk about it when it’s someone else and second of all he is, in ways, becoming more content with the thoughts that star himself. It’s still wrong whenever Adam is there too but the _idea_ of Ronan in a sexual context isn’t as horrifying as it once was. ‘You said once you were going to tie him up and tell him he looked pretty,’ Ronan says, smile on his lips. ‘So did you do that?’

Noah lets out a loud laugh. ‘First thing, no. Second thing, absolutely.’ He pauses for a second again, humming softly. ‘He was all—fucking hell, man, I don’t know if the best part was actually having his dick inside me or the way he was _gasping_ , all—pleading and begging, it was so beautiful. I am so fucking in love with him; it’s not even funny anymore. You know, he has really strong arms, right? I bet he could just—lift me up and fuck me against a _wall_. Back muscles flexing with the effort and clutching my thighs hard enough to _bruise_. I’m going to cry, Ronan. I think I might actually start crying right now.’

‘Did you just–’ Ronan says. ‘Did you just share a sex fantasy with me and then proceed to start crying about it?’

‘I’m not crying,’ Noah says. ‘I could but I’m not. And yes, I did. Sue me.’

‘Imagine the court case if I did,’ Ronan says, grinning over at Noah. ‘Anyway. I’m—I don’t know, really glad things between you and Gansey worked out. You’re really—I’m trying not to be too gay but you’re really fucking good and I love you.’

‘I just talked about how I rode Gansey’s dick, I think you’re safe with regards to “being gay,”’ Noah laughs. ‘And I love you too, fucko. So much. My guy, my pal.’

 

* * *

 

‘So, Ash…’ Ronan says, looking over at Adam. He brings him up because—well, if Ash actually hurt Adam he will fuck him _up_. And Ash, who has kept cornering Ronan in school, seems—heartbroken and ruined by this whole affair so if he didn’t—maybe Adam is ashamed and that’s why he isn’t returning his calls, maybe he wants to get back with him but he can’t bring himself because of some misplaced feeling of embarrassment.

‘What about him?’ Adam asks, sighing heavily.

‘He’s–’ Ronan says, swallowing hard. ‘He’s really broken up about this thing and I don’t know—did he hurt you because I’ll fucking destroy him, man.’

‘He didn’t—he didn’t do anything,’ Adam says.

‘What then?’ Ronan asks softly, scrunching his eyebrows. ‘You don’t want to get back with him? He loves you and–’ he gulps. ‘It’s pretty obvious you love him too… When you’re talking about him, when you’re _kissing–_ ’

‘I don’t,’ Adam says quietly, like he’d rather be talking about anything else.

‘Don’t what?’ Ronan asks. ‘Love him? I don’t—you don’t look like that when you kiss someone if you don’t love them…’

‘How do I–’ Adam says. ‘I don’t–’

‘Like he’s the fucking _world_ ,’ Ronan says quietly. ‘Like everything begins and ends with him, he’s the only thing in the world, not like he hung the moon but like he created the whole fucking _universe_.’

‘That’s only because I’m imagining it’s _you_ ,’ Adam snaps and before he realises what he’s saying he carries on. ‘Every time – every _time_ – I imagine it’s you…’

Then, he realises what he just said and the whole world crashes down around him. He just—he just _told_ Ronan. He’s been working so hard on _not_ letting Ronan know, and here he is now, completely fucking blowing that.

Like he’s blown everything in his entire life. His parents were right, of course they were. He fucks everything _up_.

‘You–’ Ronan whispers, voice cracking. He stares at Adam, then squeezes his eyes shut, opens them again. ‘You— _me_? Am I—is this a dream?’ His voice cracks on the last word and it’s barely audible.

‘I’m sorry,’ Adam says, furiously wiping away the tears. ‘I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll—I’ll make it stop, I’ll—I’m sorry.’ His voice cracks too and he hates himself for how pathetic it makes him sound.

‘But–’ Ronan says, closing his eyes again. ‘I know when I’m awake and when I’m asleep.’ He opens his eyes and looks at Adam. ‘This is real?’ he whispers and Adam nods at him, his breath catching in his throat. Why does he have to ruin everything like this, why does he have–?

‘Say it again,’ Ronan whispers.

Adam doesn’t know what Ronan is doing or why he isn’t _saying_ anything, why he isn’t mad yet, why he isn’t—but he’s already said it, one more time won’t change anything, maybe he thinks it’s a practical joke and doesn’t know—‘I love you,’ he whispers, voice still wet. ‘I’m in love with you.’

‘This isn’t—I know when I’m awake and when I’m asleep, I know when I’m awake and when I’m asleep, I know when—this has to be dream, this has to be—Adam could never— _my_ Adam could never, could never—’ his voice drops even lower and Adam has to listen closely to even hear what he says, ‘—love me back this way.’

Adam’s heart skips a beat. His breath catches again. Did he hear that—did Ronan—love _back_?

He leans forward very slowly, biting his lip and trying not to choke on his heart beating so fast. Gingerly, he brings up his hands and cradles Ronan’s face softly. ‘This isn’t a dream,’ he whispers. ‘Can I kiss you?’

Ronan nods jerkily and Adam leans forward to close the gap between them.

It’s soft, feather-light, barely there. Neither of them is breathing.

Ronan is gaping at Adam, eyes blown wide. He can’t believe this is happening. He’s still not completely convinced this _is_ happening and it isn’t a dream, except—except the dreams have never felt like this. His mind could never conjure up something like this. He runs his fingers across his lips in disbelief, mouth still slightly open. Then, he brings his hands up and tangles them in Adam’s hair and Adam pulls him in for another kiss, deeper this time.

Ronan knows then that this _has_ to be real because the dreams have always been tainted with self-loathing and right now there are only butterflies.

When Adam pulls away, his cheeks are red and his eyes are still blown. He stares up at Ronan, unable to stop grinning. Ronan is looking at him and he bites his lip. ‘I’ve been in love with you for years,’ he tries saying but his voice is hoarse and it cracks so he clears his throat. ‘Way before I even knew your _name_ , I looked at you – you biked by every day and I went outside to catch a glimpse, just five seconds.’ He pauses for a second and he laces his fingers through Adam’s and smiles at him. Adam leans in slowly and pecks another kiss to his lips.

‘I fell more in love with you whenever I fucking saw you,’ he says. ‘And when I didn’t,’ he adds, and laughs quietly. ‘Remember when I got back from Ireland? I thought I was going to die when I saw you standing there, all— _God_.’

‘I remember thinking–’ Adam whispers. ‘Your voice had gotten so deep and your _collarbones_ –’ he laughs, too, grinning up at Ronan and biting his lip. ‘I wanted to kiss you so bad.’

‘I wanted you to,’ Ronan says. ‘I wanted you to fucking—kiss me.’

Adam looks up at him, eyes still a little red from the crying and it’s bringing out the blue in them. He’s still smiling – still _giddy_ , beaming – but his eyes are sincere. ‘Is this—can we have this?’

Ronan locks eyes with him. ‘If you want,’ he says quietly.

‘I do,’ Adam replies hastily. ‘I want this.’

‘Adam,’ Ronan says quietly, his heart beating so fast he thinks he might explode. It’d be all right, though; he can die happy now. ‘Do you want to be my boyfriend?’ he can feel his cheeks turn red but he forces himself not to look down.

Adam blushes too, then leans in and kisses him again, softly and short. He pulls away and looks up at him. ‘Yes,’ he says. ‘I want to be your boyfriend.’

They’re both grinning wide and Adam bites his lip again, tries not to bubble over with excitement. He can’t tell if he’s succeeding or not. ‘Can I kiss you again?’ he asks and he never wants Ronan to stop looking like that, stop smiling like that.

Ronan nods, still grinning. ‘Yeah,’ he whispers. ‘Please kiss me again.’

Adam’s eyes flutter shut and he leans in again, arms thrown around Ronan’s neck, pulling him closer.

They kiss like their lives depend on it, like they’ve been waiting for this moment for _years_ – which they have. Lips sliding open and together, tongues, breath, and Adam thinks about how it has never felt like this. Kissing has never felt like— _this_.

Ronan suddenly realises why Noah doesn’t seem to be able to shut up about how great kissing is because—this is _mind-blowing_. He has Adam’s tongue in his mouth and he is _not asleep_ and Adam just said _yes_ when he asked him to be his _boyfriend_. His stomach flips over and there are stars on the insides of his eyelids.

Adam pulls away and Ronan opens his eyes; he looks—his lips are red and his eyes are blown and his _hair—_

Adam leans in again and kisses down Ronan’s jaw and then his neck. Ronan lets out a sound and, impossibly, he can feel himself blush even more from embarrassment. Adam pulls away slightly and looks up at him, arches his eyebrow, and Ronan can _feel_ more than see the smirk on his lips. ‘Have wanted to do that for a while,’ he says, and leans in again to continue the work of sucking a bright purple mark into Ronan’s neck. Ronan whines again, low. ‘You’re going to kill me,’ he chokes out. ‘I can’t fucking wait.’

  
Adam comes out of the shower and Ronan is still there; he’s on his bed, looking ethereal in the afternoon light. He almost looks away but then he remembers—he’s _allowed_ to look, he can look now.

He can’t fully believe it. Can’t comprehend what happened between them – how he kissed Ronan, and Ronan kissed him _back_ , and he asked him to be his _boyfriend_ —

He bites his lip and keeps his eyes on Ronan. Ronan is looking back at him, _gaping_. Adam isn’t wearing a shirt and his hair wet and messy from the shower. Ronan can’t believe it either – _this_. He’s wanted this for longer than he even really knows, he’s wanted _Adam_ for all his life, and here they are, now, finally—he swallows hard.

Waves of— _something_ wash over Adam. He feels like his lungs are collapsing, crashing, all this too overwhelming; Ronan right there, looking at him like that. He wants to scream how much he loves him, how much—

He remembers a poem he copied into his journal years ago when this was something he was sure he’d never have but he still had some masochistic kind of hope. He moves to get it and dumps down beside Ronan on his, in Ronan’s words, _terribly fucking awful_ mattress.

He opens the journal and browses to the right page. ‘You,’ he reads, and Ronan quietly moves around and lies down, head in Adam’s lap. Adam gently massages his skull with his fingers and continues reading. ‘Uninvited, the thought of you stayed too late in my head, so I went to bed, dreaming you hard, hard, woke with your name, like tears, soft, salt, on my lips, the sound of its bright syllables like a charm, like a spell.’

He pauses and takes a breath. ‘Falling in love,’ he continues. ‘Is glamorous hell; the crouched, parched heart like a tiger ready to kill; a flame's fierce licks under the skin. Into my life, larger than life, beautiful, you strolled in. I hid in my ordinary days, in the long grass of routine, in my camouflage rooms. You sprawled in my gaze, staring back from anyone's face, from the shape of a cloud, from the pining, earth-struck moon which gapes at me.’

He looks down at Ronan and smiles before reading the last stanza. ‘And I open the bedroom door. The curtains stir. There you are on the bed, like a gift, like a touchable dream.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo boy, it's over. this feels kind of surreal, to be completely honest. like ronan, i'm trying not to be too gay, but anyway. biggest thank you to estrella for inspiring this whole thing, to kayla for beta-reading, to everyone who has read it, left kudos, commented, sent me encouraging messages on tumblr dot hell. gosh darn heckie it's been wild and i just want yall to know it's been fun as hell and amazing so thank you. thank you, thank you, thank you. all my love. that's all there is.
> 
> (the poem is "you" by carol ann duffy)


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the epilogue which is completely up to you whether you read or ignore.

Adam is in his second year of college (when he’d received the acceptance letter from Yale University he’d stared at it awe-struck and dumbfounded for five minutes, then called Ronan. They’d gone for ice cream to celebrate and they’d both been ridiculously happy. This is what he’d worked so hard for – there, in his hand, tangible evidence that he’d _succeeded_ ) currently zipping his bag tight after having shoved a week’s worth of clothing and other necessities into it. He’s on the phone with his boyfriend.

‘I’ll be there in ten minutes tops,’ Ronan says on the other line and Adam looks around the dorm room. ‘I can’t wait.’

‘Me neither,’ Adam says, smiling into the phone while thinking about the upcoming road trip. ‘I don’t even remember how old we were when we first talked about this. What…twelve?’

‘I know we talked about it right before I went to Ireland,’ Ronan says. ‘But knowing me I’d say I probably brought it up earlier.’

‘Knowing you, I’d probably say the same.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Ronan says and he tries to keep his voice stern but there’s a laugh sneaking into it.

‘You used to go outside to watch me _bike by_ ,’ Adam laughs. ‘You essentially thirst befriended me.’

‘I did no such _thing_ ,’ Ronan laughs. ‘And even if I did, it’s not my fault you’re so fucking gorgeous.’

Adam feels his cheeks heat up and he bites his lip before answering. ‘Shut up,’ he says quietly. ‘I’m going outside now. I’ll meet you in the parking lot?’

‘Almost there,’ Ronan says. ‘I’m in the wicked hot black car that makes all the boys go _wooow_!’

‘I know your car, Ronan,’ Adam deadpans. ‘You’ve had it since we were, like, fifteen. Thirsted over it since we were nine. It’s apparently a common theme for you to ogle things for years and then finally actually get them.’

‘Shut the fuck up, Parrish,’ Ronan says. ‘Maybe I’ll dump you and go live in solitude with her.’

‘Maybe I won’t miss someone who dumped me for a _car_ ,’ Adam replies. ‘That’s the most loserly thing you have ever said.’

‘Fuck off,’ Ronan says. ‘Suck my dick.’

‘Mmm,’ Adam says as he sees the black BMW pulling into the lot. ‘Maybe later.’

  
Ronan parks right in front of Adam on the curb, but turned so Adam has to go around the car to get into the passenger seat. He smirks and salutes him out the window and Adam rolls his eyes at him before going to open the door and get inside the car.

‘Hey,’ he says quietly and leans over to kiss Ronan. It’s short, and sweet, they don’t get to tongue. Adam pulls away and leans back in his seat, putting on the seatbelt.

‘Hey,’ Ronan says back, just as quietly. He changes gear and turns the wheel, still looking at Adam. ‘I missed you,’ he says, looking back out the front window.

‘I missed you too,’ Adam says, looking over at the profile of Ronan’s face, blinking lazily. He’s trying to keep a calm exterior but inside he’s considering setting himself on fire. Adam moved out for university but Ronan stayed back at the Barn so they haven’t seen each other in a _month_ and Ronan looks fucking _good_. He’s let his hair grow out and Adam wants to get his hands in it right about _now_. The echo of Ronan saying, “suck my dick” is still reverberating in Adam’s head and he swallows hard, keeping his eyes on him. He kind of wants to drag Ronan with him to backseat.

‘You’re staring,’ Ronan says, looking over at him. Adam doesn’t look down or away, just continues looking at Ronan as his cheeks turn slightly red. He looks away again, back on the road. ‘It’s creepy.’

‘Is it?’ Adam asks in a drawl.

‘It is,’ Ronan says back.

‘Hmm, that’s weird,’ Adam hums. ‘Think I remember some instances of you staring at me when you thought I wasn’t looking…’

Ronan sets his jaw and ignores the blush. ‘Thought you were asleep,’ he mumbles. ‘It’s the artist in me, actually. Just aesthetic appreciation.’

Adam snorts and leans over to push Ronan’s shoulder. ‘Could’ve just said you think I’m pretty.’

‘Whatever,’ Ronan says. ‘I think you’re pretty. Nobody can fucking blame me anyway…’ he adds, fiddling with the car radio.

Adam reaches out and grabs his hand and Ronan looks over at him again, swallows, then looks back on the road with one eye. He’s a careless driver but he doesn’t want a crash when Adam is with him. Adam laces their fingers together softly, squeezing Ronan’s hand. ‘You know,’ he says quietly. ‘I think you’re all right looking too…’

‘Fuck off,’ Ronan says, barely above a whisper. ‘Noah overheard you telling Gansey I’m _savagely handsome_.’

Adam blushes but keeps his eyes on Ronan. He hums quietly. ‘Think I might recall that,’ he says, nodding. ‘But it’s just the artist in me, actually. Aesthetic appreciation.’

‘Oh God, shut the fuck up,’ Ronan says, looking back over at him just to show him how he’s rolling his eyes. ‘I can’t believe I’m in love with you.’

 

* * *

 

Ronan parks the car on a hill and for a minute they just sit in silence before stumbling out. They’ve brought an abundance of blankets and thermos filled with coffee and hot chocolate. Ronan doesn’t drink coffee. He remembers when they were fifteen years old and Adam started taking a liking to it (more out of necessity than anything else – working multiple jobs and staying top of all classes (except one) as well…), asking why he didn’t like it. ‘Come on,’ he’d said. ‘It’s good. It’s so _good_.’

‘Shut the fuck up,’ Ronan had replied. ‘I’ll spit it in your fucking face, you just watch me.’

Adam had laughed loudly, telling how he wouldn’t dare.

Ronan had stared him down and slowly raised his left eyebrow. ‘Watch. Me. Fucker.’

Adam spreads out a blanket on the ground and dumps down on it. He pads the space beside him, smiles up at Ronan, and Ronan sits down as well, smiling too. He leans over and kisses Adam softly, then pulls away and laces their hands together.

He looks up and starts pointing out constellations, telling the stories. Adam listens intently to him and looks at the stars he points to. Adam knows most of the stories but he likes listening to Ronan’s voice. They come to live in Ronan’s voice.

‘I don’t want this to end,’ Ronan whispers quietly, blinking up at the sky a couple of hours into the night.

‘Everything ends,’ Adam says just as quietly, looking over at Ronan.

Ronan looks over at Adam and breathes out slowly. ‘No,’ he whispers. ‘We could be endless. I meant this right now but I also—I also meant _this_.’

Adam swallows hard and blinks. They’re so close he can feel the head radiating off Ronan’s body. ‘I don’t either,’ he whispers and it’s barely audible. ‘I really, really don’t want this to end.’

‘It won’t then,’ Ronan whispers back, reaching out his hand and softly running his finger along Adam’s jaw. He gulps.

Adam gulps. Then he slowly leans closer till there’s not even an inch between their lips, swallows hard, and closes the gap. He kisses him like never before, like something has been decided, like something has _changed_. Kisses him like it means the world, trying to communicate everything he wants to say through the slide of lips and tongues and swallow breaths. He wants to say _thank you—for everything_. He wants to tell Ronan all the ways he’s changed and saved his life, the ways he’s made it worth living. There was a period where he considered ending it, dropping out, but it never became too tangible, never made it into plans or an actual _wish_ because there was always Ronan. Ronan was always there—right _there_.

Ronan kisses him back, moving a little so his right hand is at the back of Adam’s neck and the other is fisting his shirt. He wants to tell Adam he loves him. He’s already told Adam he loves him, told him he’s _in love_ with him. After the whole confession happened, when Adam accidentally confessed how he loved Ronan back and Ronan was shocked-shaken to his core, unable to process or believe that it was real or happened or not a dream, they went to bed together. They lay there, Adam with his head on Ronan’s chest, under one worn-through blanket. It was summer anyway. Without thinking too much of it, Ronan had started talking. He still remembers every word he’d said. ‘How didn’t you–’ he’d said. ‘I thought I was so, so obvious. I know I was so, so obvious. Why do you think it freaked me out so much whenever they all teased me and called you my boyfriend…?’

‘I thought you were angry,’ Adam had whispered. ‘I felt so bad because—I kind of liked it,’ he’d chuckled quietly, softly run his hand over Ronan’s stomach. ‘I thought you were really mad by, like, the implications. And the idea of kissing me.’

‘Oh God, no,’ Ronan had said. ‘No, I wanted it to be real so bad. I was sure you’d know how fucking gone I was.’

‘ _Oh_.’

‘ _Oh_ ,’ Ronan had repeated. ‘Remember when you told me to carve our names into the tree and you punched my shoulder when I called you a loser for it? When you stayed the whole weekend and we woke up all tangled together? When I kept measuring your hands for those shitty mittens I knitted for you? Jesus, I could go and on about all the times I’ve fallen more and more in love with you, it’s ridiculous. I remember–’ he’d swallowed hard. ‘Do you remember when we went to the beach and accidentally ran into Declan and that girl making out? I mean, she was cute, I guess, but I just kept thinking about you, man, it’s fucking embarrassing…’

‘You taught me to swim,’ Adam had said, turning his head to look up at Ronan, eyes wide and honest. ‘You had something in your hair and I leaned over to brush it away and—you know, you bite your lips an awful lot.’

Ronan had laughed then, grinning down at Adam. ‘Had to do something to stop myself from kissing you.’

‘Makes your lips all red and swollen… I hate it.’

‘You hate it?’

‘Mmm,’ Adam had hummed as Ronan slowly bit down on his bottom lip, keeping their eyes locked. Adam had rolled his eyes, flipped them over, and leaned down to kiss him. ‘Makes you so fucking kissable,’ he’d whispered, voice hoarse, and Ronan had whined low before pulling him down to kiss him back.

So he’s told him he loves him, and is in love with him – not just then, but since too, obviously.

Still, he wants to tell him he loves him, right now. Wants to tell him it’s always been him, will probably continue always being him, that he doesn’t want _this_ to _end_. He wants to be endless with Adam. He wants to be larger than goddamn life—with Adam.

He deepens the kiss even more, pulls Adam even closer, they’re so close now he doesn’t know where one ends and another begins. He thinks, for a brief second, he’s never known where one ends and another begins; they’ve always been entangled, entwined, laced together—AdamandRonan.

Adam pulls away and breathes heavily. ‘The stars are beautiful,’ he gets out, looking at Ronan’s eyes.

Ronan murmurs in agreement, not looking away from Adam. ‘The stars are fucking gorgeous.’

Adam’s mouth drops a little open but it takes him a second before he says anything. ‘I love the stars,’ is what he says then. ‘Burning bright, shining endlessly. Love them endlessly…’

Ronan swallows but doesn’t tear his gaze away from Adam’s eyes. ‘Me too,’ he says. ‘Can’t imagine a world without stars. No light. No love. No nothing, just darkness. I love the stars.’

Without saying anything more, Adam leans in again and kisses Ronan—messily, deeply, all-consuming. Like they’re the only people in the world, like nothing else matters.

 

* * *

 

‘I’ve wanted to go here since I was _eight_ ,’ Adam says, staring out in awe at the museum unfolding in front of them. ‘Maybe seven.’

‘That’s because you’re a nerd,’ Ronan says, squeezing Adam’s hand and looking at the large Brontosaurus skeleton in front of them. ‘This is _surreal_.’

‘Who’s the nerd now?’ Adam asks, grinning over at Ronan. ‘But you’re right. This is–’

‘Yeah,’ Ronan says, staring with his mouth slightly open. He looks over at Adam again. ‘This is sick.’

They move further and they get to another room with walls and walls of taxidermied birds. Without even noticing, Ronan lets go of Adam’s hand and moves closer to the first one. He looks back over at Adam; eyes wide and filled with wonder, then turns back around and stares at the birds.

He starts listing off trivia. He knows the Latin names of all the birds and rattles them off in an awed whisper, staring wide-eyed at the walls stretching out in front of them.

 _Holy shit_ , Adam thinks. _This is the nerdiest and cutest thing I have ever seen…_

He doesn’t say that but just goes to wrap their hands together and press a quick kiss to Ronan’s. Ronan smiles at him and continues telling about all the bird species and their respective living habits.

‘I miss Chainsaw,’ Ronan says. ‘I hope Matthew is taking good care of her. Hey, we should Skype Matthew. Want to Skype Matthew later, babe?’

‘Yeah,’ Adam grins, squeezing Ronan’s hand.

‘Good,’ Ronan says and smiles at Adam before leaning over to press a quick kiss to his lips.

 _  
Everything is wonderful,_ Adam writes on the backside of a postcard. _We went to the Peabody Museum, Ronan ate two litres of ice cream, and the stars looked beautiful. Hope you’re doing well & having fun. _

Ronan grabs the pen from him and underneath it he writes, _stars couldn’t compete with Parrish, though._

Adam lets out a laugh full of disbelief, then covers his face. ‘You didn’t,’ he says. ‘That’s so fucking–’

‘Unnecessary and gay?’ Ronan prompts, looking at him with honest eyes. ‘True and accurate?’

‘The first,’ Adam says, wrapping his arms around Ronan and pulling him closer till they’re inches apart. ‘Kiss me,’ he whispers and Ronan does. He kisses him and Adam kisses him back, fisting his hands in the fabric of Ronan’s leather jacket.

Ronan tangles his hands in Adam’s hair and pulls softly. Adam lets out a small gasp and deepens the kiss. They’ve been doing this for over two years now and it still sets Ronan’s skin on fire.

‘We’ve got to get stamps,’ he says breathily after pulling away. Adam rolls his eyes at him. ‘We’ll get stamps,’ he says and Ronan is in awe of how controlled his voice sounds. ‘Right now I want you to kiss me again.’

‘Your wish,’ Ronan says, and he doesn’t finish the sentence before Adam’s mouth is on his again, hot, heavy, demanding.

Later, Adam gets out another postcard, quickly scribbles Blue’s new address on it, and writes out a message for her as well. _Enjoying spring break. Hope you are too. Don’t let the dolphins eat you alive. Lots of love, xx_

‘I don’t think dolphins eat humans, Parrish,’ Ronan says. ‘Then again, Blue’s a maggot.’

Adam punches his shoulder and laughs up at him. ‘Shut the fuck up,’ he says.

 

* * *

 

‘Hiii,’ Matthew grins, waving at them through the screen. ‘How are you doing? I miss you both!’

‘Hi Matthew,’ Adam smiles, waving back. ‘We miss you too!’

‘Don’t put words in my mouth, Parrish,’ Ronan says. ‘You taking care of Chainsaw?’

‘I _am_ ,’ Matthew says, smiling widely. ‘She loves me, you know it. I think she might actually dump you for me. You’ve been warned.’

‘She would _never_ ,’ Ronan says shocked. ‘What kind of _blasphemy_ …’

Matthew looks like sunshine personified, grinning at them. He has dimples and his hair is still wild and curly. ‘Guess who was voted cutest couple for senior superlatives,’ Matthew says, smile growing impossibly wider.

‘No _way_ ,’ Adam says, eyes widening as he grins at Matthew. ‘You and Brandon?’

‘ _Yeah_ ,’ Matthew says. ‘I mean, it’s real. We’re cute.’

‘That’s awesome,’ Adam says, looking over at Ronan. ‘That’s so cool!’

‘I know,’ Ronan says. ‘They make out all the time. In _front of me_. Fucking kids, these days…’

Matthew laughs and rolls his eyes. ‘If you were here I’d punch you,’ he says. ‘Anyway. I want to ask him to prom. I hope he says yes.’

‘He is literally your boyfriend,’ Adam says. ‘You’re literally dating.’

‘I know,’ Matthew says. ‘Still. Anyway again. You didn’t tell me how you’re _doing_? What have you done? What have you been around and seen?’

Ronan and Adam look at each other for a moment as if communicating telepathically, then turn back and look at Matthew through the screen. ‘We went to the Peabody’s Museum,’ Ronan says. ‘They had the wildest exhibition with dinosaurs and _birds_. It was amazing.’

‘Sounds like something nerds like you would love,’ Matthew says, smiling at them.

‘You were literally _just_ talking about how you think Chainsaw loves you more than me,’ Ronan retorts. ‘Why would she ever choose someone who doesn’t even appreciate _birds_?’

Matthew looks pointedly at Adam and rolls his eyes. ‘Can you believe this guy…?’ he asks.

Adam shakes his head slowly, then smiles at Matthew. ‘Um, other than that we’ve looked at the stars and gone for ice cream. Ronan ate so much. He’s embarrassing.’

‘He is,’ Matthew says in a grave voice. ‘He really is, that poor boy.’ He switches tone and smiles widely at Adam. ‘Stargazing sounds really nice. Did you hold hands?’

‘We did,’ Adam says, looking over at Ronan for a second. Even miles away and through a screen, the complete endearment and _love_ are clear to Matthew.

‘If you teach Chainsaw swear words while I’m gone…’ Ronan threatens and trails off.

Matthew starts laughing. ‘Shut up,’ he says, beaming. ‘You think I haven’t heard you try or what… If I succeed in teaching her swear words you’ll be goddamn proud and in awe, don’t lie.’

‘OK, true,’ Ronan says, grinning at his little brother. ‘Anyway, I hope you’re good. I miss you lots.’

‘I miss you too,’ Matthew smiles. ‘That includes you, Adam.’

‘The miss is _mutual_ , Matthew,’ Adam says, smiling too. On the screen, he sees as Ronan turns around and kisses his cheek. He feels his lips press against his skin and wraps his arm around him.

‘Aw, you’re cute,’ Matthew says. ‘I love you and miss you lots. Have a nice honeymoon.’

‘ _Matthew_ ,’ Ronan chokes out, looking shocked at his little brother. ‘It’s spring break, what the fuck?’

‘Oh, sorry,’ Matthew says, laughing loud and wild and free. ‘Have a nice spring break.’

‘Thanks,’ Adam says as Ronan mutters something about how he hates him.

Matthew waves a final time before Ronan ends the call. ‘I love him,’ he says, tackling Adam over so they’re lying on the bed.

‘I know,’ Adam says, grinning up at his boyfriend. ‘So do I.’

‘I know,’ Ronan says. ‘Means the fucking world.’

 

* * *

 

They drive around the state. Adam shirtless, riding shotgun, with his feet on the dashboard. They eat pizza and it’s unhealthy and they keep just laughing at each other.

‘This is nice,’ Adam says. ‘Just like we planned.’

‘Just like we planned,’ Ronan repeats, smiling over at him.

Then they drive to New York and they go to Broadway. Ronan squeezes Adam’s hand tight as he jumps up and down after they’ve brought tickets to see RENT.

‘I can’t _wait_ ,’ he says. ‘Shit, we’ve got to FaceTime Noah. He’ll be so jealous.’

They sit down on a bench and Ronan gets out his phone.

‘Hi,’ Noah’s clear voice comes from the other end and on the screen they see him turn his face away from them. ‘Hey, babe, come here, Ronan and Adam are calling.’

‘Hang on,’ Gansey calls and four seconds later his face appears on the screen too. ‘Hey,’ he smiles. ‘How are you?’

‘Hi,’ Ronan says. ‘We’re great. Hope you are too. Guess what we’re about to!’

‘Oh my God, no way,’ Noah says. ‘You’re about to have sex in an H&M dressing room?’

‘What the fuck,’ Ronan says, eyes widening. Noah is grinning at him.

‘You’re right,’ Adam says. ‘We called to update you on exactly where we’re going to fuck.’

‘ _Knew it_ ,’ Noah grins.

‘No, shut up,’ Ronan says. ‘We’re going to see _RENT_. Today. Really soon. _RENT_ , Czerny!’

‘For _real_ ,’ Noah screams. ‘What the fuck? I can’t believe you’re doing that without me!’

‘We watched RENT ten days ago,’ Gansey says.

‘One) that’s absolutely _not the same_ ,’ Noah says. ‘And two) has it really been that long? We’re watching RENT tonight, love.’

‘Obviously,’ Gansey says.

‘I can’t wait till I’ve got my degree,’ Noah says. ‘I’m going do so much theatre with those pre-schoolers…’

‘We got the postcard,’ Gansey says. ‘Thank you so much! And you went to _Peabody’s_? I love that place.’

‘Naturally,’ Ronan says. ‘We did too. It was fucking _sick_.’

‘Ronan knew the Latin names for _all_ the birds,’ Adam says. ‘It was straight-up the most nerdy thing I’ve ever seen.’

‘Shut up, oh my God,’ Ronan says, shoving Adam’s shoulder. ‘You’re friends with _Gansey_.’

‘Point?’ Adam says.

‘Fuck off,’ Ronan says, though smiling. ‘I can’t believe we’re seeing RENT!’

 

* * *

 

They’d planned to drive to Pennsylvania but when they get into the car they look at each other and say _fuck it_. Instead, they decide to take the nine hours drive back home to the Barns.

Adam puts on music and dozes off some of the way, wakes up and looks up at Ronan with wide eyes, looks out the window and hums quietly.

When finally there, they only make it to the couch before collapsing on it and falling asleep half on top of each other. Ronan mutters something that sounds like _I love you_ before dropping off and Adam smiles softly at him and whispers how he loves him too.

When they wake up, Matthew is in the living room telling them to stop being gross.

‘Oh, this is going to get so much worse,’ Ronan says, wiping at his eye. ‘You and Brandon have—this is going to be _payback_.’

Adam chuckles and tells him to shut up before leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

‘Kiss me properly,’ Ronan says and Adam does.

‘You know it doesn’t bother me, right,’ Matthew says, voice full of affection. ‘I’ve been rooting for this since I barely could walk.’

‘Shut up,’ Ronan says, pulling away from Adam’s lips to shove his little brother’s shoulder. Matthew laughs loudly before jumping up and leaving them alone.

  
They go outside later. They go to see the cows, and around down to the lake.

‘Remember when we fell in?’ Ronan says, looking over at Adam smiling. ‘We were fucking idiots.’

‘I wanted to die when I saw you wet,’ Adam says.

‘I wanted to die when I saw you in my pyjamas the next day,’ Ronan says back, pulling Adam in and kissing him. ‘Right now I’m pretty glad I didn’t, though.’

‘Hmm, me too,’ Adam agrees. ‘Maybe I’ll push you in so you have to strip out of this when we get back inside.’

Ronan laughs at him. ‘You could just ask,’ he says, winking at him.

‘Does this count as asking?’

‘No,’ Ronan says. ‘I’m going to need you to use your damn words.’

‘Because you’re always so excellent at that, aren’t you,’ Adam retorts. ‘Using your words.’

Ronan wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him closer to kiss him again. ‘Thought you liked me incoherent,’ he whispers in his right ear.

  
After baking and eating cinnamon rolls with Matthew, they lie on Ronan’s childhood bed with their hands laced together. The glow-in-the-dark stars are still there.

Adam is reading the last instalment of _A Series of Unfortunate Events._

Ronan knows every word by heart but he has his eyes close and is listening intently to Adam’s calm voice. ‘There are some words, of course, that are better left unsaid—’ he reads. ‘But not, I believe, the word uttered by my niece, a word which here means that the story is over.

‘ _Beatrice_.’ He closes the books softly and turns his head, looks at Ronan. His eyes are still closed.

‘These books are my childhood,’ Ronan says quietly, still not opening his eyes. ‘As you are.’

‘I was just thinking about that,’ Adam says and swallows. ‘When we were eating cinnamon rolls. You know, the first time I was here and we got cinnamon rolls and lemonade, I—I was really, really happy that day. For the first time, I think.’

‘You know,’ Ronan says, blinking open and looking at Adam. ‘I was really, really happy that day too. And then you came back. You kept coming back.’

‘You kept letting me,’ Adam says.

‘I’m never going to stop,’ Ronan says quietly.

‘I want to stay,’ Adam whispers. ‘I want us to be endless.’

‘Let’s be endless, then,’ Ronan whispers back, looking him right in the eye. ‘I’m where you are. I carry your heart in mine.’

‘I love the stars,’ Adam whispers, voice barely audible now.

‘I love the stars,’ Ronan whispers. ‘I love you more, though. Let’s be larger than life.’

Adam doesn’t say anything more, just pulls Ronan close to kiss him again. And again. And again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for everything. x


End file.
